Garden of Eden
by Remmy94
Summary: When a second prophecy predicts the existence of a missing daughter, the wizarding world is thrown into a sea of chaos. Opposing sides of the war go head to head in a mad hunt to find the girl who will be either the Dark Lord's greatest weapon or ensured downfall. This is a story of a broken family and a broken love. But all will be mended within the Garden of Eden. Scabior/Oc
1. These Things do Happen

**Author's note: Greetings new readers and potential reviewers!**

**So basically, I was attacked by a mob of plot bunnies on acid a couple of weeks back and they haven't left me alone since. Which "would" be fine but the thing is all these individual plot bunnies wanted their own stories. Unfortunately for them, I lack the time and motivation to juggle like fifty fanfics at once. So instead, I combined a bunch of them, and this little gem is the end result. (Actually it's more like a lump of coal then a gem but it's something Goddamn it!) *sigh***

**READ ME: For all those new readers, Scabior will NOT be making his first appearance until chapter 7 **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs and maybe the plot. IDK. Everything that sounds familiar, the Deity -Otherwise known as JK Rowling- owns)**

**Also please keep in mind that this is a work in progress. This fanfic is likely to be outrageously long by completion day so BE PREPARED. Please also note that this is categorized as a Family/Romance FF. One of the biggest aspects of this story is the Malfoy family and it's relationships. Of course there is romance to come, but this WILL be a slow moving story and there's a lot to get through before that. Have no fear it will speed up eventually.**

**So, without further adieu...enjoy.**

In the early morning of June fifth nineteen-eighty, Narcissa Malfoy woke with a hand on her swollen belly in more agony then she had ever before experienced. It was neither her pain filled moans or ragged breathing that disturbed her softly snoring husband, but the tiny compact fist that made contact with the side of his head.

Lucius Malfoy tore his eyes open, and instinctively made a mad dash for his wand. The lack of Ministry officials didn't quite register in his annoyingly foggy brain until Narcissa gave him a startled look and carefully slid the weapon from his tightly clasped fingers. Though there was a moments relief, once Lucius finally began forming connections between his wife's distorted face and the puddle in their bed, it dissipated like smoke to reveal a slightly flustered, if not panicked, Malfoy patriarch. Time froze, and his silvery grey eyes grew wide with comprehension.

Narcissa watched in fascination as the man she called husband descended into a labor induced panic. Cracks in Lucius's stone like composure didn't happen often, but when they did she never ceased to be amazed. A sharp pain through her lower abdomen served as a subtle reminder to what had yet to be done. Blinking away the last reminds of intrigue, the matriarch quickly grasped her husband's unoccupied hand, since the other had taken to strangling the bed post, and spoke to him as she would a small child or scared animal.

"Darling. My love, unless you plan to deliver our child here, I suggest we relocate to St. Mungo's." Narcissa said, giving the fingers she held a light squeeze for emphasis. The hilarity of the situation wouldn't hit her until much later, but the temporary switch in their roles didn't escape her notice.

It took a moment but fortunately the slight physical contact seemed to have gotten through to him because almost immediately Lucius jumped into action, grabbing his robe and the over night bag Narcissa had specifically prepared for this occasion. Lucius was back by his wife's side and lifting her off the mattress before she'd even had the chance to sit up properly, not that she complaining. The contractions had decided that now was as good time as any to resume racking havic on her body. They were becoming progressively worse and the beautiful silvery witch was too busy concentrating on not biting her own tongue off to comment anyway.

Lucius whispered soft words of encouragement as he shifted her bloated form in his arms, mindful of the tender patch of skin just bellow her waist. With a loud _POP!_ a house elf appeared. The Malfoy matriarch never bothered to learn their names so she couldn't remember which one this was.

"Dobby, go ahead to St. Murgo's and inform the staff that your mistress and I will be arriving momentarily." Though Lucius's voice was every bit as stiff and cruel as was usual when he spoke to the insufferable creatures, it now hid an under tone of urgency.

Dobby took in the situation, his bulging eyes growing unbelievable wide before he squeaked a flustered, "Yes Sir! Right away Sir!" disapparating on the spot.

Lucius made quick arrangements, barking orders at house elves that simultaneously appeared then disappeared as he made his way down to the foyer. He almost missed a step when his squirming cargo let forth a blood curdling scream, her newly manicured claws digging into the sensitive flesh at the back of his neck. Lucius winced but didn't comment as any wise husband knows not to, instead he quickened his footsteps to the master fireplace, only pausing a moment to grab a handful of Floo powder and then stepped into the green flames calling out; "St. Murgo's Hospital."

The hospital workers were quite at awe, to say the least, when the notorious Lucius Malfoy stepped out of their Lobby fireplace in his night clothes holding a semi-conscious Narcissa Malfoy. However, they all seemed to enjoy living enough to refrain from commenting. Patients began to gather at their doorways to watch as the obviously distressed wizard trudged down the hallway shouting for immediate medical attention. Behind him was a long parade of hospital employs anxious not to displease their wealthy benefactor.

xxx

The birthing process had been terrible. And that was from Lucius's perspective. He'd known roughly what to expect upon entering the sterilized room where Narcissa was situated for the duration of her labor period, but nothing could have prepared him for the blood and the screaming and the spike in his wife's hostile tendencies. From the moment he'd walked in the door, the vixen had had his wrist in a death grip. A couple minutes in, Lucius had attempted to loosen the vice she'd fastened due to lack of circulation to his finger tips, which however proved to be bad idea considering it resulted in his normally even tempered wife landing yet another well aimed blow. Lucius may have been angry if the woman wasn't about to stretch herself to unbelievable limits to birth a human being, but that didn't stop him sending the Medi-nurse and assistant a withering look. He didn't appreciate the amused glances they'd exchanged at his expense.

The contractions had continued for what felt like hours, but were truly only minutes. Relief hit the wizard like a ton of bricks when the ignoramus whose hands were positioned between his wife's legs finally said, "Alright, you are fully dialated. Now push." That emotion was short lived because any feeling he'd regained in his fingertips evaporated immediately as Narcissa's grip tightened ten fold. Her breathless ramblings had turned to violent threats. Somewhere within in all the gurgled screams she hissed something that sounded an awful lot like "Lucius, you bastard! You are NEVER touching me again!"

Though he didn't find Narcissa's pain the least bit amusing, he couldn't help the smirk that tugged on his lips at the irony in those words. He was careful to hide his humor from her, though. The man didn't fancy yet another abrasion on his face, courtesy of his wife.

It was then that Draco Abraxas Malfoy was born.

Narcissa wasn't quite coherent enough to register the cries of her newborn son but if she had been she'd have agreed with Lucius that he was complete and utter perfection. Despite the bloody mess that seemed to cover everything, Draco's highly distinguishable blonde hair and stormy grey eyes were evident beneath all the sludge. Lucius was a man that constantly kept his emotions in check behind a cold exterior, but in those first moments, holding his heir, all Lucius could feel was an endless amount of love and affection for the warm little bundle. His stony complexion shattered and the attendant secretly watching was shocked to see a smile so wide and radiant that she had to wonder if she'd become delusional. The man was interrupted mid-coo, though Lucius would never call it that, when the Medi-nurse hesitantly said, "Just a minute, Mr. Malfoy. It seems we aren't quite finished here."

Lucius didn't fully comprehend what that meant until the doctor and nursemaid realigned themselves and made to deliver a second child. In that moment a thousand different emotions tumbled down on Lucius like waves on a stormy beach. Once the shock wore away, the first to be recognized was complete and total joy. The next; white-hot fury. How had that imbecile doctor not known of the second child? What if something had gone wrong during the pregnancy that wound up threatened the life of one of the children? Lucius had to physically restrain himself from killing the man on the spot. Though consider it he did, the patriarch thought better of it. First priority was seeing to the child's safe delivery. Revenge would follow, and how sweet it would be.

Lucius handed his son reluctantly over to the nursemaid to be cleaned up before grabbing Narcissa's clammy pale hand once more and kissing it's palm. She was giving him a grander gift than even she knew and he loved her all the more for it. Narcissa remained in a semi-lucid state, having lost consciousness somewhere towards the end of Draco's birth, so the instinctual flex of her vaginal muscles was the only acknowledgement she offered the second child.

When the air erupted once more with the first whimpers of life, Lucius couldn't help but stare at the mass of inky black hair sprouting from the baby's crown. _Well isn't this a surprise. I do believe you'll be the first Malfoy heir lacking the signature tresses. _Lucius thought in amusement.

With delight he drifted away from Narcissa to meet his second son. Only it wasn't. He was in awe to find his second son was not a son at all, but a daughter. The assistant matron whom handed her to him had to say it twice before the words sunk in. It wasn't that Lucius Malfoy didn't want a girl. No, in fact he was overjoyed. What he was appalled at was a girl was born in the Malfoy name. The Malfoy's hadn't birthed a female in over eight generations. He stared at the tiny bundle in his arms, almost unsure of what to do, when suddenly her little eyes opened to reveal a color so blue they would have put the atlantic sky to shame. For the second time that morning, love tore at Lucius with impressive force. But this time something else mingled within his subconscious as well. Protectiveness. In his eyes, she was the embodiment of all things good and pure. Everything he intending to protect. Lucius almost pitied the man that got in his way.

A mumbled groan from the bed alerted Lucius that Narcissa was coming to. The same nursemaid came to relieve Lucius of his little burden once more, which he handed away with equal if not more reluctance and made haste to his wife's side. "You did wonderful my love." He whispered in her ear as he stroked the sweaty strands away from her face.

Her eyes were still closed but a tiny smile played at the corners of her mouth. "How is he?" She said on an exhale. Narcissa wouldn't admit it to her husband but she was extremely happy that birthing process was over and more than a little proud that she hadn't bawled her eyes out just like she'd wanted to. Now all she could think about was that faceless baby who'd left a hollow space in her belly. She wanted to see him.

As if sensing what she wanted to say Lucius nuzzled the hair behind her ear caring little for the opinions of any who were watching. "They will return Draco in a moment," he paused glancing at his wife's face ready to gauge her reaction. "Along with his sister I suspect." It took a moment. Then a tiny knit appeared in her perfectly arched brow and she pulled back her eyelids just enough to look questioningly up at her husband. He smirked at her expression before pressing his lips to her jaw line.

Once.

Twice.

The third was placed on her lips but this time to express all the passion and love he felt for her. "Yes my dear, his sister. You have given me twins, you marvelous _marvelous_ woman." A chuckle escaped his lips before he could stop it. Narcissa's maple brown eyes grew large with understanding as she gazed up into his own. Then they filled with tears and the most ridiculous, childlike grin appeared on her face. Lucius couldn't help thinking that the expression clashed with her naturally elegant features. But in a good way.

"I want to see them! Draco and…well we hadn't even discussed girl names because we were so sure Draco would be born but… we'll worry about that later!" Excitedly she lifted her torso off the mattress just enough to support herself on the backboard. She then placed a quick kiss on both of Lucius's knuckles before her demanding eyes settled on the Medi-nurse. "Bring my children to me now." she commanded.

_Ah yes. The Medi-nurse. I almost forgot about you. We simply MUST have a word, _Lucius thought wickedly as he watched the doctor scurry away to fetch the children. The nursemaid from before and a second he didn't recognize entered the room, both with a precious bundle hoisted in their arms. One squirming bundle was wrapped in blue. The other in pink. Lucius felt a burst of pride as his two children were placed in Narcissa's eagerly waiting arms but he swallowed it down when he caught sight of the doctor trailing not far behind the nursemaids, flipping through the charts on his clipboard. There was time for such heart felt sentiments later. But now, Lucius had a debt to collect.

Lucius had never cared enough to learn the Medi-nurse's name, but now his eyes scanned over the tag pinned neatly to the pocket of his nursing robes; clearly labeling him as "Doctor Dante Truman." Lucius narrowed his eyes at the man momentarily before turning back to his wife and infants, and placing a affectionate kiss on all three foreheads. Then he turned with renewed vigor and without warning, grabbed Truman by the scruff of his lab robe. The doctor put up little resistance as he was dragged into the corridor and thrown up against the adjacent white plaster wall. Lucius took odd satisfaction from the sound of air being forced from the man's lungs. The fury was back.

"Do tell me Doctor Truman, how it is my wife has had monthly visits to this vicinity and not _once_ did you or any of your associates mention that there was another child growing in her womb?" he hissed. "Did you just _neglect _to inform us or are you so incompetent at your job that you failed to notice the _second_ fetus taking up residence beside the first?" There was a dangerous undertone to the words that sent shivers up Truman's spine and he could feel the sweat forming at his temples and beneath his armpits. The young doctor knew of Lucius Malfoy and the influential power he held within the Ministry, but even without those credentials he was still capable of making Dante's blood run cold. The Medi-nurse gulped as Malfoy drew closer still, his icy breath smelling faintly of expensive liquor and Cuban cigars hit Dante's face like arctic winds.

"Pl…Ple…Please Sir…" he stammered up at the intimidating man. "These things do happen. It…It was just a mistake." Dante wanted more than anything for a fellow employee or, anyone really, to appear and rescue him from this terrifying man. Truman's eyes darted hopefully over Lucius Malfoy's shoulder at a slight movement down the hall, but whoever had been there wasn't anymore. Dante was on his own. His eyes scurried back to the silvery-grey ones above him and he almost screamed at what he saw. Malfoy's face had become something out of a muggle horror movie with his slanted eyes and gleeful grin that seemed to stretch over the entire expanse of his face.

"Oh, my apologies." his voice contrite though the smirk he wore was anything but. "I didn't realize that you had put the lives of my unborn children at risk due to a _mistake_. But you have my regards for informing me that _these _things do indeed happen." Lucius's voice became gradually more menacing as he continued. "Now allow me to return the favor." Lucius released the man's collar long enough to unsheathe his wand and push him into a vacant room across the hall. Dante landed on his back with a groan. He sat up just in time to see Malfoy lock the door and place a strong imperturbable charm on it. "You must learn, _Doctor Dante Truman, _that when you cross me or endanger my family _these_ things do in fact happen." Then the screaming began.

xxx

Narcissa glanced up at Lucius as the hospital door clicked shut. She had been coddling the twins for the past half hour and was beginning to wonder where her husband had run off to. Though now that she saw that familiar icy glint in his eyes, she had her suspicions. She chose to ignore them however and instead offered him a delicate smile before turning back to her children. It was amusing watching them interact with each other. They would alternate from staring wide eyed at her to one another than back again. The hospital bed shifted slightly and Narcissa glanced up to see Lucius had taken a seat beside her.

"My apologies dearest, I had some _business _to attend to." He spoke softly as to not alert the children. His eyes didn't leave the babes as he shifted to stroke the cheek of a drooling Draco. Narcissa nodded once before handing her lovely son over to Lucius sense he had already been fed and began nursing her daughter. Nothing more was spoken of his absence as the adults sat in a comfortable silence and the babies cooed away.

"Have you decided on any names for her yet?" Lucius finally asked after some time.

Narcissa looked up from where she was smoothing some of the infants fine hairs to the side. "Yes, but I promise you will not like any of them."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, slightly offended. "Oh, please do enlighten me."

"Well, when I was young I had a doll called Alice_"

"No."

"What? Why? That was even one of the better choices. What don't you like about it?" Though Narcissa expected his rejection, she still scowled.

"Because," her husband explained slowly, "As Malfoy heirs, our children require titles that demand the same amount of respect as their surnames. Draco translates to dragon; his sister must have an equally as powerful name. No mere doll's name will suit one such as her."

"Alright then. What would you have her called?" Narcissa growled obviously frustrated.

"Vulpecula." Lucius replied without hesitation.

Narcissa raised a humorless eyebrow at him. "Vulpecula." She repeated. "The fox constellation?" At his confirmation she looked down at her daughter who in Narcissa's mind was giving her a pleading look to fight in her defense since she had yet to learn the skills of speech. "Lucius," she paused, "that's putrid and it is never going to happen."

Lucius was about to fight her on it but one look at his wife's determined expression had him thinking otherwise. The couple went back and forth on the subject for the better half of an hour before finally an exasperated Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy agreed to disagree.

**Review please! **


	2. Parties and Promises

******Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs and maybe the plot. IDK. Everything that sounds familiar, the Deity -Otherwise known as JK Rowling- owns)**

"Darling, darling!" Narcissa screeched as she practically tore the bedroom door off it's hinges in her rush to get in. Lucius raised an unamused eyebrow from where he stood against the conjoining bathroom door, tightening his formal bow tie. Spotting her husband, she adjusted a drowsy looking Draco to her alternative hip and sprinted frantically to his side. "Dearest, it's horrible! Simply terrible, you must come!" she sobbed into his shoulder.

Lucius rolled his eyes and patted her back sympathetically, quite used to his wife's antics by now. "What is it, Narcissa?" He sighed exasperated. It had been like this for weeks. Severus had called it "postnatal depression", not that Lucius cared much for what it was called, he just wanted it to stop. His long time dependable level-headed wife had become a mad woman in a fortnight with the emotional habits of a harpy. He was going bloody insane! Last week she'd thrown a fit because she couldn't find the specific outfits she planned for the twins to wear upon meeting her mother and sister for the first time. When he had _tried _to comfort her by saying the outfits were 'ugly anyway' she was like a bat out of hell, screeching about how he was unsupportive, uncaring, and a royal arse. The worse part was that he couldn't retaliate at all. Severus had specifically said it was a common symptom after child birth and it would eventually go away on it own over the next couple months. But Lucius didn't know if he could last that long.

Snape had also warned him to keep his cool about him in these types of situations unless he wanted a second Wizarding War erupting under his roof. Though Lucius suspected his long-time friend was right, he couldn't help the sparks of irritation that had begun to form in his chest.

"It's the baby, Lucius! I can't find her! She's gone!" Narcissa cried.

Ah yes, and that was another thing. After having the infants at home for over eight months, the newly parents had yet to agree on a name for their daughter so instead they just continued to refer to her as "the baby". Her brother was simply called Draco, as the two needed to be differentiated. But the fact that her name wasn't on paper yet only added to Lucius's never ending frustrations; which may be why he was so quick to snap at his wife now.

"_What?"_ he hissed. _"_How can she be gone when she was with _you_ the entire afternoon? It may have escaped you noticed, _wife_, but neither of our children have yet accumulated the motor abilities required to walk."

"I don't know" Narcissa snapped, pulling away from his arm. "She was there one moment, and I turned to attend to Draco, then the next she wasn't! I checked all her usual hiding places; under the bed and behind the rocker. She wasn't even in the closet!" All tears were gone now as she snarled up at her husband. "We wouldn't have this problem if you hadn't insisted on me preparing both children and myself for this little get together on my own!"

Lucius's right hand twitched to strike the woman for her disrespect, but he was never one to hit his wife. Especially when she'd only recently given birth to his children. Instead he closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled slowly. It wouldn't do any good for either of them if he were to lose his temper now, especially over something so trivial. The party guests would be arriving soon and he couldn't have his family looked disconnected or separated in anyway.

"You are right darling, I apologize." He murmured placing a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth. "Give me Draco and I'll go search for his sister. You_" he paused taking in her frustrated expression and frazzled appearance. "You go ready yourself and leave the rest of it to me." He finished, taking a wiggling Draco from her hands and hoisting him up. "He's prepared, correct?" He asked motioning to the tiny Malfoy in his arms.

The boy was looking every bit the part of a wealthy heir in a smart black button up shirt, a pair of freshly pressed pants, neatly parted hair, and tiny booties without a lace undone. Already he looked so much like his father that Narcissa couldn't help the proud smile that tugged at her lips.

"Yes he is adequate,." She murmured stroking his plump little cheeks. Then her eyes snapped open in realization. "But "the baby" isn't! She ran away…er…crawled away before I could get her in her dress!" Lucius could see a panic attack coming from a mile away and this one was just too easy to spot. Acting fast, he grasped one of Narcissa's perfectly manicured hands and reassured her that all was well and he'd personally make sure their daughter was presentable for the evening. She nodded, still slightly dubious of the situation and left the room in a hurry to prepare herself.

Lucius watched her leave, paying thorough attention to her swaying backside before returning his focus to his son. Draco didn't seem all that concerned with the situation as he turned his head this way and that for his own amusement. The older Malfoy smirked at his child's silliness before catching his eye and muttering a sarcastic, "Well lets go find your imp of a sister," and followed his wife out of the bedroom door.

xxx

He couldn't believe it. She really was missing. Not that he'd ever admit that to his wife. That's why when Narcissa had peaked her head out of the master bathroom to ask how the search was going, he lied and said he'd found her. The party didn't start until half past eight which meant he had twenty minutes to find the minx without raising his wife's suspicions. But despite how simple it sounded out loud, Lucius was growing increasingly frustrated. Not the angry type that was induced by Narcissa's childish rants, but the worried type that covered his forehead with a layer of sweat. Though he kept a calm exterior for his son's benefit, inside he was becoming anxious. Lucius's traitorous mind kept filling his thoughts with worse case scenarios.

He briefly considered rounding some house elves together to find her, but quickly dismissed the idea. Narcissa would become immediately suspicious if she spotted a dozen house elves scurrying down the corridors screaming: "Lil' miss!" at the top of their lungs.

Agitated, Lucius did a three-sixty of where he stood in the foyer, Draco still tucked safely in the crook of his arm. Where the devil could she be? Right when he was about to admit defeat and seek out the assistance after all, he heard it. A tiny giggle from down the hall, so faint he almost missed it. Lucius tightened his grip on Draco and followed the bell like sound down the corridor and into the Grande Library. The doors were already slightly ajar so he could enter silently and waited with keen ears.

_Giggle._

There! Lucius reached quickly beneath the nearest table and sure enough, hidden under the yellow silk table cloth was the black haired beauty he was proud to call daughter. It was also the black haired beauty that had nearly given him a heart attack and whose bottom he had half a mind to spank blue. She on the other hand looked overjoyed to having been found and giggled like crazy as she joined her twin in the comfort of her father's arms.

He looked down at her impossibly blue eyes for a moment positively transfixed on their color before scoffing. _Damn. _He thought with not a little annoyance. _I must be going soft. _But already all unpleasant feelings were melting away as she started tugging playfully at his long silvery locks. Lucius forgot himself for a moment as he smiled down warmly at his daughter. Then he realized what a bloody fool he must have looked like and stopped immediately. Sighing, he trudged back to the nursery, both of his most precious treasures held close to his heart.

xxx

Malfoy Manor was ablaze with every color on the spectrum that cool winters night. The celebration had begun not an hour before and already the grand hallways and pristine ball rooms were positively filled with people. The mansion was a utopia of sounds and scents and Severus Snape had to admit, Narcissa had once again out done herself. Crystal chandeliers sparkled against the silvery candle light above and below the alabaster tile was polished to the extent that you could see your reflection gleaming back at you. Magical ivy and ever-growing flowers wound their way up the massive columns on either sides of the welcoming hall. The leafy spirals eventually disappeared within the enchanted ceiling that at the moment could have been a carbon copy of a mid-Atlantic sunset. Complete with colorful streaks of gold and magenta.

Never one known to mingle, the young man in his early twenties mostly kept to himself and tried to blend in to the background. Fat lot of good that did, however. The black robed man was like a smudge on the pearly white walls. He attracted many snobby looks and upturned noses from passing pureblood 'nobility', each he returned with a silent snarl which eventually seemed to get the point across.

_Why am I even here?_ The young man wondered as he leaned against a semi-secluded column, clutching a goblet of the strongest thing being served.

"Ah, Severus! I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it." called a voice in the crowd.

_Oh. I remember. I'm here because of this git_ _

"Lucius." the dark man replied with a nod but offered no further greeting. "What was so important that you _insisted _I cancel three potion orders in order in be here tonight?" He asked, the sarcasm rolling off his tongue like sour honey.

The Malfoy patriarch joined Snape's side smirking at his long time friend's predictability before replying arrogantly, "Suppose I just wanted you here to celebrate the birth of my first two children?"

"_First_?"_ Severus repeated, playing along. "I do hope your not insinuating that you plan to reproduce further, Lucius. I do not think your budget can handle it." he said as an after thought gesturing to extravagant hall.

Lucius raised an eyebrow in mock offense. "Severus, surely you know I have enough gold to host two of these parties a week for the remainder of my life and then have some to spare." he smiled with hubris.

"Just two then?" Severus questioned, sneering into his goblet .

Lucius snickered. "Well it's nice to know you haven't changed." He flashed Snape his trademark smirk before gathering their empty glasses and placing them on a passing waiters tray. "Come_" he continued, "we have much to discuss."

xxx

Within the privacy of Lucius Malfoy's private quarters, the two men stood before the massive fireplace, each nursing a glass of Lucius's finest whiskey. Severus had been growing progressively more agitated at his friend's allusiveness when addressing the subject he wished to speak on, for he was man of little patience.

"Well?" he drawled with not a little irritation.

Malfoy was quiet. He had yet to turn from the fire so his face and the expression it held remained hidden from Severus. Instead the dark man opted to watch the flames cast dancing shadows on Lucius's formal robes with disinterest.

"Things are not going well." The patriarch finally muttered. "The Dark Lord is anxious about something. His temper is shorter than ever before and he's lashing out at the smallest mistakes. He seems almost_" Lucius paused unsure for a moment if it was even safe to say the word out loud. "_afraid." Lucius never considered the Dark Lord to be human, so it was strange associating him with such a 'human emotion', but it was true. For months now their dark leader had been acting skittish and distracted. Qualities that were extremely out of character for Voldemort. But he had also becoming more cruel. He was venting his frustrations out on his followers and those in his inner circle more and more frequently. Twice already, Lucius had stumbled back home in the early hours of the morning with blood seeping through his robes, feeling as if every nerve in his body had been set alight with fire; an unfortunate side effect of being placed under the Cruciatus curse for a prolonged period of time. The only reason Severus was unaware of the present predicament every other death eater currently faced was because he was off spying for The Dark Lord at Hogwarts, which preoccupied most of the Potion Master's time.

_That, and not so long ago Severus some how became the Dark Lord's favorite over night. _Lucius thought with more resentment than he cared to acknowledge. Though he trusted and genuinely liked Severus, Lucius didn't much like being bested by his own protégé. Malfoy had always been one of the highest standing death eaters before Snape had been inaugurated into the Dark Lord's inner circle. Within his first three months Severus had somehow weaseled his way into the dark wizard's good graces and had even procured himself the right hand seat at the meeting table. Lucius felt his jaw go stiff as he mulled over the old information. Once more feeling the uncomfortable seeds of jealousy beat against his heart. The whole ordeal left a bitter taste on the man's tongue.

A callous and slightly detached "_hmm" _brought him back to the conversation at hand.

"Those idiot associates of yours, Crabb and Goyle, aren't quite as tight lipped as you on the subject and this information has already reached my ears." Snape stated uncaringly. "I can't say I'm surprised however," he continued. "The Dark Lord hasn't been too pleased sense he acquired a bit of information a while back that hinted at an advancing threat. Though I can not go into specifics, as you well know, for your own benefit and the benefit of your family, I'd suggest you do nothing to displease him for a while."

Lucius raised a delicately arched eyebrow at his friend. So that's how he'd done it. He'd discovered some useful information and dangled it in front of the Dark Lord, like a dog to a bone, using it to gain leverage. Smart man. And for that reason alone, Lucius had specifically asked Severus to attend the celebration that night. As Severus had already stated in simpler words; the other's were tomfools and morons that couldn't keep their lips shut even if you stitched them.

In fact, Snape possessed all the attributes that made him the obvious choice for the job. He was intelligent, and cunning; a true Slythern. He was known to talk circles around the most calculated and well developed evidence coming out victor of any debate or argument every time. He was also quick of wit and a man that Lucius always suspected to have an agenda of his own. And despite his detached demeanor, Lucius knew he possessed 'feelings', of sorts. All were important characteristics suited for the job Lucius intended to force upon him, whether he was willing or not.

"I'm not surprised. After a short torture session with the Dark Lord, I'm baffled they didn't high-tail it back to their mothers for sympathy and sweets." Lucius reluctantly admitted. "But the Dark Lord's movements aren't what I wished to speak to you about, at least not directly," stated Malfoy, turning away from the hearth.

"Go on." Severus said coolly, not liking where this was heading. Whenever Lucius asked something of him, Snape always came to regret it. The most recent evidence of this being a snake and skull tattoo burned into his left arm.

Instead of answering him, the Malfoy patriarch placed his half empty glass down and began rummaging through his desk draws. He pulled out a thick roll of official looking parchment covered in red ink. It was obviously some type of contract.

_Damn my intuition._ Snape silently hissed.

"Severus," Lucius began, placing the parchment down on the desk before his dark friend. "We have been comrads in the field of academics, and allies in war. I have shared more with you in my life than I have with any other of my 'associates', as you call them." Lucius's icy grey eyes bore into Snape's bottomless black orbs and Severus found it increasingly difficult to look away. "And now I ask you to share one more thing with me, as it is only natural." he continued, pushing the roll of parchment closer to Severus's clenched fists.

With a scowl Severus put down his drink with perhaps more force than necessary and grabbed it up. His jet black eyes moved swiftly down the page, reading thoroughly through the document.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

By the fourth time a humorless smile was tugging at the corners of Professor Snape's lips and he looked up at Lucius with a raised eyebrow.

"Godfather to you children." He stated with slow precision. Severus paused waiting for Lucius to call his own bluff but when silence was only answered by more of it's kind Severus's expression became deathly serious. "Surely you jest."

Lucius looked at Severus pointedly. "_Surely_ you know I wouldn't joke about something as serious as my childrens' wellbeing." He replied solemnly.

The dark man's frown deepened as he looked back at the document in his hands and then to his long time friend once more. "Do you truly believe this to be a wise decision?" He questioned softly. "If something were to happen to yourself and Narcissa, would you not want someone outside the death eater circle to care for your young." Pause. "Perhaps that way they can avoid meeting a similar fate as their parents." he added thinly.

"Ah, but that's just it, my friend." Lucius answered in a exhausted voice as he took a seat behind his elaborate desk. "I trust no other, and only those worthy of my trust will I allow access to my children."

Severus almost growled as he took the seat opposite Malfoy's. He couldn't say no. Despite how much he wanted to, he felt obligated to protect his friend's children. But that didn't mean he was happy about it.

The two men locked eyes once more, as they battled it out silently. Lucius's filled with his own brand of conceit, and Severus's with reluctant acceptance. The potions professor knew the last thing he needed was more responsibility. What with his new positioned as double agent for the OOP, potions master at Hogwarts, and his constant fear for Lily's wellbeing. Especially if that responsibility came in the form of two miniature Malfoy brats, but what could he do? He vowed to protect all those innocent when he was initiated into the Order, and despite family relations, those two children _were _innocents. He may have also felt a tad bit indebted to Lucius for his years of companionship.

So with a sigh, that even to himself sounded more like a growl, Severus Snape picked up the offered quill and signed his life away for the third time that year.

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	3. Hell Hath no Fury

**Author's note: BOOM! Another chapter! Bet I surprised some of you silly people! **

**Thank you for the reveiws. They warm the cockles of my heart, you know. So keep 'em commin! **

**********Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing but my OCs and maybe the plot. IDK. Everything that sounds familiar, the Deity -Otherwise known as JK Rowling- owns)**

"Oh, isn't he just precious?" Walburga Black gushed, grasping one of Draco's tiny plump cheeks between her index finger and thumb and giving it a squeeze. He let out a wail of protest that the old bat was all too happy to ignore. "He looks just like his father, Narcissa. You should be proud. You did well to marry someone so handsome. I don't know what I would do with ugly grand-nieces and nephews." The batty old woman didn't see the scowl that crossed her niece's face and continued with her senseless rambling, completely ignorant to the fact that Narcissa was moments away from blowing a gasket. "Thankfully you don't have to worry about that dearest." she reassured with a sniff. "That daughter of yours is going to be a beauty indeed. Looks just like a doll! She'll collect a high price, I guarantee it!" the old witch said snootily.

Narcissa, whom already wasn't in the best of moods considering she had been putting up with her delusional aunt for the past half hour, almost snarled. She didn't appreciate Wulburga speaking about her lovely daughter like some prized mare. Narcissa knew it was expected of her and Lucius to eventually arrange a marriage for their daughter, as all pureblood families do, but the girl hadn't even reached one year yet and here Wilburga was ready to sell the girl off to the highest bidder! That's not to say that owls weren't arriving by the dozens with proposals from all sorts of pureblood wizarding families. In fact, the house elves had their hands full just trying to keep them all organized. But the idea of offering up ownership of her daughter so soon, even just on paper, made Narcissa nauseous.

Instead of voicing her opinions, however, like any good hostess, she smiled politely and nodded her 'thanks.' Unfortunately, the old bat took that as initiative to continue with her irritating chatter. She didn't seem to notice that Narcissa had turned to speak with the woman beside her, whom held an aggravated looking baby girl in her arms. The girl didn't seem to like the loud old woman any more than her mother, though for completely different reasons. It was the little girl's firm belief not to trust anyone that smelt like rotten prunes, of which, Great-aunt Walburg reeked.

Meanwhile, Draco had yet to escape 'said' woman's clutches, though he was putting up a valiant fight. Regrettably, Walburga simply refused to relinquish possession of the boy, instead opting to adjusted her grip on him whenever he tried to wiggle free. This effectively kept him trapped within her bony vise.

The woman to which Narcissa now spoke was Viperia Malfoy. Viperia was tall woman, with a severe face and the lovely flaxen colored hair that Lucius had inherited. Despite her pinched expression and lightly peppering roots, she remained every bit as lovely as she had once been. The older witch was currently alternating between glaring at Walburga with obvious dislike, to watching the baby whom had exchanged her earlier expression of discontentment for one that was boarder line rebellious.

While Narcissa began a conversation with Viperia about the newest operas and ballets, she noticed Viperia's husband, Abraxas Malfoy, standing further in the background. He was conversing with a nearby gentleman on politics and ministry affairs, so he wasn't paying any of the women much mind. She couldn't help but think that Lucius was the exact replica of his father. Despite the age difference, the similarities were undeniable.

"So dear, do tell me why I had to wait so long to meet my precious grandchildren for the first time. Eight months is a long time to keep an old woman waiting, you know." Viperia stated, though not unkindly.

Narcissa hurriedly turned her eyes back to her mother-in-law, and smiled. "My apologies, Viperia, for the delay. I just wanted the welcoming party for the twins to be as lavish as possible." She gestured to the ballroom. "They _are_ Malfoys after all. Lucius would have protested if I organized anything but the best."

The older woman smirked in response. "Spoken like a true Malfoy, my girl. You were born to marry my son, I think."

"_Pfft!_ Malfoy indeed!" Walburga spoke up superciliously. "My niece gets her extraordinary taste from her Black heritage. Nothing she is now is thanks to her relations to the _Malfoy_ name. If anything, you should be thanking her for bringing a bit of culture to your family!"

Viperia's eyes narrowed dangerously at the other witch. "I see now that dear Narcissa here is the _only_ Black with any taste, not to mention propriety." she sneered back.

Wulburga's face turn several different shades of violet before taking a threatening step forward. Narcissa could just imagine all the angry words and nasty comments formulating in her brain, organizing themselves to become the perfectly precise insult sure to make Viperia burst a blood vessel. Fortunately, for Viperia's blood vessel and Narcissa's stress levels, Abraxas had at some point bid the earlier gentleman adieu and now stood between the two prepared to stop the confrontation before it turned bloody.

"Both of you stop this immediately." He growled in the dangerous way only Lucius could imitate. "I will not have the Malfoy reputation tarnished because a couple angry old bats couldn't keep their claws to themselves for one night." he hissed.

Viperia glared at her husband, but reluctantly nodded. Wulburga on the other hand, whom had been so big and mighty moments ago, now cowered away from the intimidating wizard. Narcissa resisted the urge to pitch the bridge of her nose. She was getting a headache and the family rivalry wasn't helping.

After an awkward pause, the first to 'speak' was Draco. He had been wiggling to escape Wuburga's clutches the entire time and having no luck finally decided to take more drastic measures. He wailed at a volume Narcissa had difficultly believing such a tiny baby could produce on his own. More than a few people were glancing their way with obvious irritation. Thankful for the excuse to escape the tension filled situation, Narcissa quickly reclaimed possession of her now bawling son and fled the scene, mumbling something about getting him fed. Seeing that she was out numbered, Wulburga wandered away to mingle elsewhere, leaving Abraxas, Viberia, and the hiccupping second baby. They both looked at the infant then back at each other, not quite sure what to do.

"Mother. Father." Greeted a nonchalant voice from behind. The pair turned to see their son advanced them confidentially with the dark haired wizard they knew to be Severus Snape by his side. The tall brooding man didn't appear to happy at the moment, but neither of the senior Malfoy's could remember a time when he particularly did. They of course recognized him by association with the Dark Lord, and his visits to the Malfoy Mansion during his Hogwarts years. Though he was a half blood, Abraxas Malfoy couldn't deny that the man demanded respect in everything he did. His wife however, had a slightly different opinion on the subject.

When Lucius reached them, he and his father exchanged nods of acknowledgement, as did Abraxas and Severus, and Lucius placed a feather light kiss on his mother's cheek, which made her positively glow. She, however, completely ignored the scowling man at her son's side.

"Dearest! How lovely to see you." The witch enthused, a warm smile playing at her lips. "We were beginning to wonder when you'd show yourself."

Lucius smirked. "Have no fear, Mother. I would not have allowed you to leave without first offering my greetings." he replied formally. "Though these circumstances are indeed coincidental. I felt the need for Draco and Lyriella to meet their Godfather before he vanishes back into the shadows." he continued with a hubris grin.

"Lyriella?" Abraxas questioned, raising a humorous eyebrow.

"Godfather?" hissed Viperia.

"Lyriella Magnolia Malfoy to be exact." Lucius answered, ignoring his mother's outburst. "It seems your granddaughter finally has a name." He said with a smirk.

"Well it's about time." Abraxas grumbled, grabbing a champagne from a passing waiter. "I say we toast to it."

"But he's a _half blood_!" Viperia shreeked, earning herself an irritated look from both Malfoy men and a glare from Severus.

"Mother, hand Lyriella to Severus and go cool you head off elsewhere." Lucius said calmly after a pause.

"Absolutely not!" she hissed. "If you think I'm going to let a_"

"_Viperia!_" Abraxas snarled, cutting her off. "Do as he says." He ordered.

The old witched pouted up at her husband for a moment, before handing the baby over to an equally reluctant Severus, and marching off to get herself a drink.

The dark man held the infant awkwardly away from him, as if he was fearful she was explosive. Lucius couldn't help smirking at his companion's discomfort and slapped him none to gently on the back.

Severus scowled at the man in return, but Lucius had already turned his attention back to his father. Still slightly irritated, the potions master shifted his attention back to the little bundle in his hands. Her lower half was dangling in the air due to the inexperienced position he held her. To be quite honest, in Snape's opinion, it didn't look at all comfortable. But Lyriella appeared quite content, happily kicking her feet, her large blue eyes never leaving Severus.

There was utter silence between the two for a moment as they each observed the other cautiously. She must have been pleased with what she saw because suddenly a radiant smile formed on her little pink lips and her chime like giggles filled the air. Then her pudgy little hands reached out to him, and for the sake of curiosity he pulled her closer.

Giggling with delight, the infant immediately began pulling pieces of his inky black hair through her tiny fingers, studying the color for a moment, before reaching for more. Severus hadn't realized he was _almost _smiling at the child's silliness until Lucius decided to comment on his ridiculous expression. Hurriedly, Snape pulled the little girl away from his locks, and placed her securely into the crook of his arm, feeling like a complete dunderhead.

Lucius chuckled at his friend's embarrassment, turning back to his father.

"Am I correct to assume Narcissa hasn't the faintest idea you've named her child without consulting her?" Abraxas asked, failing to hide his mirth behind his wine goblet.

"Well technically," Lucius began, glancing over at Severus, "I wasn't the one to name her."

Abraxas raised an eyebrow. "No?" he asked, clearly wanting the whole story.

xxx

Earlier-

"_That is another thing Malfoy." Severus sneered, the quill hovering over the expensive ivory parchment. "I'm not signing my life away to a child without a name."_

"_Oh, don't be so melodramatic, Severus." Lucius smirked. "Your hardly signing you 'life' away. And as far as her name is concerned, Narcissa is being uncharacteristically stubborn on the subject and rejects every option I give her." He sniffed indignantly._

_Severus smirked at the Malfoy patriarch. "Well, my friend, it seems we are at an impasse. Because I won't sign as her Godparent unless she has a name. So either you chose one now or I will." he threatened._

_Lucius raised a brow at that before tapping his chin thoughtfully with his long pale fingers. "Alright." He said after a moment, smiling pleasantly at the potions master._

"_Alright?" Severus questioned._

"_Yes. I agree. You choose. This way I can finally address my daughter by name and if Narcissa hates it, she can blame you." Lucius smirked._

_Ever the Slythern, Snape thought fighting the urge to roll his eyes. With a sigh in agreement Severus carefully considered a name worthy of a pureblood's daughter and copied it down on the parchment. Then he added his own neatly scrawled signature beneath. The ink turned red when making contact with the parchment, dubbing it as an official contract. _

_Severus knew there was no going back now. _

xxx

"So that's how it happened." Abraxas chuckled darkly. "And you think pointing fingers at him is going to save you from your wife's temper?" he asked sarcastically, motioning to a glowering Severus. "Best of luck my son." Abraxas looked him over a final time, as if committing Lucius's image to memory, before shaking his head sadly and turning to leave. Over his shoulder he called; "Just remember what I've always told you, Lucius. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'. Perhaps you should consider purchasing a couple expensive gifts before you break the news to your wife." The old man chuckled darkly as he escaped into the chilly night air, leaving behind what Abraxas believed to be a doomed man.

"He is right you know, Lucius." Severus said blatantly, adjusting his hold on Lyriella. "Narcissa is going to be furious." Thus far the potions master had succeeded in keeping a straight face, but Snape could feel his lips twitching and knew he was losing an uphill battle at his companion's expense.

"She'll hold a grudge against you as well, _Severus_." The silver haired wizard hissed. "Let's not forget the part you played in the grand scheme of things."

"Ah, yes." Snape said with a wicked grin. "But it's not I whom shares a bed with her, Lucius. Which_" he added after a pause, "I do not think you will be doing for a while either."

Lucius's jaw dropped at his companion's dark humor. He was still fuming when Severus handed him back his daughter and made his own departure, cloak billowing behind him.

xxx

That evening, Lucius Malfoy discovered that not only did his wife hit like a man but she also held a grudge like a starving dog does a bone.

Later that month, as Lucius was preparing for bed, yet again, in a guest room on the second floor, he couldn't help thinking that when Severus had said Narcissa would be furious, it was like comparing a drop of water to the bloody Atlantic sea.

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	4. Surprises in Small Packages

**Author's note: Here's another chapter, courtesy of me. Enjoy! **

******Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs and maybe the plot. IDK. Everything that sounds familiar, the Deity -Otherwise known as JK Rowling- owns)**

On October thirty-first nineteen-eighty one, Narcissa Malfoy woke to a drunken Lucius stumbling into their bedchamber, in the process knocking over every piece of furniture in his path. In his hand he clutched a half empty bottle of fire whiskey which he managed to spill the majority of on his journey to their bed. By the time the wizard had reached his destination, Narcissa had already lighten the bedside candles with a flick of her wand and now stood with clenched fists before the silvery man.

"_What are you doing?_" She hissed at her intoxicated husband. He looked at her with surprise like he hadn't even noticed she was there. It took him a moment to focus on her face, which by the way, was growing progressively more angry.

"He'zz dead." The man slurred, taking a seat on the mattress and another swig from the bottle.

"Your drunk." she replied, making a grab at the carafe. But he pulled it away before she could reach it, and gave his wife an annoyed look.

"Weren't you lis'nin, woman!" Lucius growled. "E'z dead. Gone. Van'quished. Iz ovr. He wuz kil'd by that Po'tr boy." The bottle dropped to the floor beside him with a muted thud, pouring it's remaining contents to the carpet.

Narcissa didn't reach to pick it up. Under different circumstances she'd have thought it was just drunken ramblings escaping her husband lips now, but she knew her husband well enough to assume differently. If what Lucius was saying now was correct, then Voldemort was dead. Killed by a baby no less. But that couldn't be true. Not even Albus Dumbledore had succeeded in destroying the Dark Lord. So how could an infant? It couldn't be true…Could it? And if it was, what did it mean for their family?

Narcissa's eyes grew wide with realization as she stared down at her inebriated husband. Panic spread like liquid ice through her veins, her slightly fuzzy brain began to make connections. If the Dark Lord had indeed been vanquished, Ministry officials would be after his followers next. It was no secret that the Malfoy family served the Dark Lord faithfully for years. Nor was it common knowledge. Narcissa often compared it to a dirty, unkempt secret. But now the secret was out. The others were sure to talk in exchange for their freedom upon capture. Or at least, the promise of a kinder sentence.

In that moment a million thoughts filled her head at a nauseating speed. Her first; to run. To burn everything, pack up the children, and flee the country. To start from scratch, somewhere new. Somewhere no one knew their names or faces or histories. But she knew this to be impossible. Lucius's face and identity were well known among the politicians and aristocrats due to their business interactions. The chances of him not being recognized, especially after the media had a field day with all it's usual propaganda, were minuscule if not nonexistent. Narcissa bit back the sob that had crept up her throat as she sunk down beside her death eater husband.

Her second thought, she despised. It was similar to her first idea in ways and completely different in others. Her maternal instincts screamed at her to take the children and flee. But to leave Lucius behind to face the fate he built himself with his hate and pureblood pride alone. The concept was selfish and not at the same time. It was true she had grown to love this man she married, but in her heart her children came first. Always. Narcissa accepted that their safety eclipsed all other priorities in her life, including her husband. But even now as she looked upon Lucius's broken form, the woman couldn't bring herself to do it. And as if to finalize this with her subconscious, she wrapped a careful arm around the man's waist. He immediately began to tremble at her touch and practically clasped into her arms as a child might.

No, she could not leave Lucius. Narcissa _briefly_ considered sending the babies to Severus until this all blew over, he was trustworthy and would defend the infants with his life, but she couldn't bring herself to part with them.

It was times like these Narcissa silently cursed her up bringing where she'd been taught to sit quietly and allow the men to make the decisions. Then perhaps she could have prevented this.

In her gut she knew it was all over. The silent tears that fell from her eyes only confirmed it. She turned those eyes to her trembling husband's half hidden face and she realized he knew it too. There was no escaping what was to come. All they could do was face it, and despite what her instincts were screaming at her, Narcissa came to terms with the fact that this was something they had to face as a family. No leaving. No running away. They began this together, and they would finish it in the same fashion. With that thought in mind, the weeping woman pulled her husband's face to the crook of her neck to await the inevitable.

That dewy morning, as the sun barely peeked upon the earth, the inevitable came in the form of three sharp knocks to the door and a signed warrant for one 'Lucius Ophiuchus Malfoy'.

xxx

3 Months Later

As Lucius Malfoy sat in his darkened office, with a drink in his hand and a solemn expression, his metallic eyes never leaving the hearth, he contemplated the last three months. It had been, in a word; tedious. After his intoxicated self had been dragged from his home and put in a containment cell at the Ministry, the ordeal had become nothing but a waiting game. Shortly after being confined, Lucius became aware of the incarceration of multiple other death eaters whom also existed within Voldemort's inner circle. Among them was his deranged sister-in-law; Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband; Rodolphus, and also Dolohov, Mulicber, and Rookwood, to name a few. Though by now, Lucius wasn't too optimistic about their sentences. As far as he knew, only he and a few others were lucky enough to avoid Azkaban. On his part, Lucius achieved his freedom by swearing he'd been under the influence of the Imperious Curse during the duration of his servitude to the Dark Lord. It also didn't hurt to have a limitless supply of influential power and enough money to bribe the King of Spain. To the other loyalists, he had taken the cowardice way out. But Lucius saw no fault in playing the part of a coward on the condition of avoiding the one place he feared more than death.

Lucius wasn't blind to the irony of the situation. That he so easily condemned other souls to such a fate in the past, while he, himself feared to even look upon the place.

Though fear wasn't the only justification he held for his own pusillanimity. In the seemingly endless days among the common muck and filth in the Ministry dungeons, Lucius couldn't help thinking of the family he left behind. He imagined his distraught wife panicking without the domineering presence for her husband to guide her. And what of his children? Would they grow up without a father only knowing what whispered lips and prejudice rumors filled their ears? Often he had wondered, what they would be told assuming the situation went belly-up. Would Narcissa defend his pride and speak kindly of him to their children? Or would she avoid the subject entirely out of shame. He wondered about things like that.

A man left to his thoughts is a dangerous thing. Lucius learned this in those lonely sodden days awaiting conviction, when all he had to occupy his time were those thoughts. It was almost a relief when the Aurors would come to take him away for questioning. It gave his mind a reason to focus on something other than the insufferable guilt that ate away at him for putting his family in their situation. He had been thankful to learn that Narcissa hadn't even been charged with sin by association. But of course the bastards hadn't chosen to confine this in him until after he'd occupied his cell for nearly two weeks. It sated his worry to know the twins were being looked after properly and allowed him to concentrate fully on his task. That of course being getting out of the bloody situation scot-free. It was times like those that Lucius was thankful for all those horridly boring conversations he'd put up with in his quest to achieve alliances. Each of those alliances became a useful string to pull in the court room, and each was an individual reason he now sat in his own home with nothing but a bruised reputation.

_Thank Merlin for penny-leeching diplomats and groveling fools. _The silvery man thought, spitefully.

The wooden office door creaked open ever so slowly, alerting him of two very little presences at the entrance way. Lucius smirked as he watched the two tiny persons enter his quarters in single line formation, completely oblivious to their audience. The Malfoy patriarch had been shocked to see how much his children had grown in his absence. In a way he felt cheated that he missed even a moment of the twin's development.

But if nothing else, Lucius acknowledged that his absence led to at least one "positive" outcome. Unlike Narcissa, he could now see the subtle differences in their personalities that he would have likely missed if he'd been present the past couple months. For example, Lucius noticed that despite Draco being first born, Lyriella seemed to be the boss of the operation when it came to their endless shenanigans. Not that Draco minded. He always appeared all to happy to comply to his sister's commands. It was quite entertaining to watch actually. The two would go on and on in their strange baby language, as if they could actually communicate with one another, and then perform some well executed mischief as if it had all been premeditated. Narcissa had foolishly taken to calling it their "twin-epathy". Lucius scoffed at the memory and turned his attention back to the duo that were now making their way across the carpeting to where he sat.

With a sigh, Lucius placed down his glass and advanced the trouble makers. Upon seeing him Lyriella stopped immediately, falling back on her bum, and plastered a countenance of false innocence to her face. Draco, seeing his sister's actions, followed suit. Lucius mock scowled down at the children, arms crossed, as a pair of sea glass and sterling silver eyes gazed up at him.

"And where do you two think your going?" he asked, secretly amused by their antics. A part of him was questioning his intelligence at talking to infants that clearly couldn't comprehend a word he spoke, but Lucius ignored it.

Lyriella looked at her brother then back at him before grinning and motioning wildly with her hands. From her mouth spewed a colorful assortment of gurgled baby words as if it was the most natural thing in the world. When she finally finished, she stared up at him like she'd just given the him cure to Dragon pox and was expecting some sort of acknowledgment for her efforts.

Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment before scooping both of the infants up and headed for the nursery. He wondered how they had even managed to escape it's confines but decided he didn't want to find out. Knowing his imp of a daughter, it probably involved some elaborate plot that _should have been_ completely inconceivable for a one years old's mind. Lucius was growing suspicious that his daughter was going to grow up to be some sort of child prodigy. And though the idea made him proud, it also worried him a tad bit when he considered all the schemes she'd get away with.

_Dear Merlin, I hope not. _

xxx

Be it by fate, or Merlin's sense of humor, either way a child prodigy is exactly what Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy soon discovered their daughter to be. It started with subtle things that at first the parents mistook as an intelligent mind and an above average learning capability. She seemed to make connections much faster than other babies, even Draco. She'd been walking sense before her ninth month, much to her brother's despair. It made keeping up with her that much more difficult. Narcissa could recall a particularly adorable scene in the drawing room back when Lucius was still away on interrogation, and she'd been comforting herself with a little light sewing by the fireplace.

She recalled looking up and seeing Lyriella standing above her brother, moving her hands around animatedly and jabbering off in that strange language they had. Narcissa was entertaining the thought that she was perhaps instructing her brother in the art of balance. She had chuckled to herself at the notion and returned to her needlework. The woman was interrupted by a fit of giggles moments later and glanced up again to see Lyriella with both hands steadying a wobbly Draco as he stood on two feet. By then Narcissa had given up her hobby to crouch closer and watch as her daughter assisted her son in his first steps. Narcissa was ecstatic in that moment, and for the first time in weeks forgot about her husband's current whereabouts. When Draco finally got a good footing and appeared more confident with himself, he gave his sister a arrogant little push, landing Lyriella on her bum. Narcissa expected tears from her little girl, but instead she just got right back up and pushed Draco back. The carpet received his bum with a muted thud, and unlike his sister, his tears were immediate. Narcissa had grinned at her son's crocodile tears but cooed at him none the less.

"That's what you get for biting the hand that feeds you, darling." She murmured sympathetically, winking at a defiant looking Lyriella.

Eventually, after Lucius had returned Narcissa had relayed the story to him. And though he admitted it was "comforting" to know the Malfoy twins interacted well together, it did very little to prove Lyriella's higher intelligence. In fact he didn't truly come to terms with it until the spring that his daughter spoke her first words.

It was a Sunday evening in mid-April and the Malfoy family was sitting down to the last meal of the day. Lucius sat at the head of the long mahogany table with an issue of "The Daily Prophet" and a fine cooked dinner before him as Draco shoved odd pieces of baby tolerable food into his mouth. He was making a prefect mess while he was at it, Lucius noticed, but was in no mood to clean up baby drool at the moment. The man would have set his wife on it straight away but she was presently indisposed on the other end of the table. Lyriella sat on her mother's lap as Narcissa tried to force some nasty looking substance between the child's lips. Even from where Lucius sat, he could see the beyond irritated look on his daughter's face and he couldn't help but feel a tinge of sympathy for the child. The stuff Narcissa tried to feed their children on the excuse that it was "healthy" even made the grown man feel a tad bit nauseous. He rolled his eyes as Lyriella spit out yet another mouthful of that vile looking food and turned back to his paper. In his peripheral vision he noticed Draco seemed totally oblivious that he would be subject to such cruel forms of torture next. Lucious took pity on the boy and allowed him to think so for a bit longer.

_Ignorance is bliss, _he mentally recited to himself.

Across the table it seemed Lyriella had finally found a way to still her mother's hand. "Momma." The child's sweet little bell voice rang out. Lucius's eyes snapped to his daughter at her first words and Narcissa nearly dropped the baby spoon she held. However the experience only got so much more surreal as the infant followed her first word with a complete sentence. "Momma, wherth Uncal Stherus?" Not that the child really cared about the man's whereabouts at the moment. She just wanted an excuse to keep that green goop as far away from her mouth as possible. This of course her parents were completely ignorant of. They wouldn't expect such forms of manipulation from a one year old. Lucius had by this time dropped the paper and stared intently listening for what his daughter might say next.

Though it was quite extraordinary to hear their child's first words at such a young age, this wasn't the reason Lucius finally acknowledged Lyriella's mind boggling potential. That, followed after a brief but shockingly intellectual conversation had between the two adults and infant.

Narcissa had excitedly shifted her hold on the child and hoisted another spoon full of glop toward the child, saying something along the lines of; "Oh, I can't wait to tell my mother! She'll be astounded at what a little genius your turning out to be. Now quick, lets finish your meal so we can go floo_" at this point the spoon was much to close for comfort to Lyriella's mouth and the child began whimpering. Narcissa, being to caught up in her own ramblings, didn't noticed her daughter's protests.

Lucius was about to tell the girl quite firmly to just eat the food and be done with it, but before the words could escape his lips the bowl the held the baby food, along with every other glass instrument in the dining hall including the hanging chandelier, the long line of Victorian two story windows, and even his own dish exploded in a loud chaotic scene of tumbling crystal. Acting on instinct, Lucius stood and drew his wand, immediately suspending the millions of shards of glass midair; they now dangled harmlessly like ornaments of an invisible holiday tree.

Lucius looked all around, not quite comprehending what had just happened. He looked from his own dish fragments, that now joined the others drifting in slow swirls above them, to his daughter across the expanse of the dining table. Unlike everyone else who remained completely silence, Draco seemed absolutely delighted by the pieces of floating crystal and reached out one tiny hand to touch one. Quickly, Lucius came back to his senses and with a flick of his wand the pieces repaired themselves to their former glory and settled back into their original placements. His dinner remained in ruins however. Along with Lyriella's, which he assumed was her intent. But wait? Lyriella's intent? That would suggest that she was responsible for that massive burst of magic. But that couldn't be possible. She was an infant of less than two. Performing even inadequate forms of accidental magic at such an age was unheard of. Never mind that colossal explosion, moments ago. But who else…

His eyes landed on the tiny girl Narcissa continued to hold, appalled. His wife wore a similar expression as she too stared down as Lyriella. The little girl in question didn't look quite as shocked as her parents. To be honest, she was more concerned about the consequences for her outburst.

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	5. A Parent's Burden to Bear

**Author's note: Since I haven't already mentioned it, I suppose now is as good of a time as any. Just so you know, I usually write about two chapters a week but at the very least I will be updating at least once a week. I DO NOT PLAN ON ABANDONING THIS STORY! I'm not a quitter & proud of it! Though it WILL be quite lengthy, please be patient with me. **

**Thank you, for those who have reviewed! I treasure any sort of acknowledgement whether you have a negative or positive opinion of the story. Please Review! =) **

**Disclaimer: Same as always. Everything that sounds familiar J.K Rowling owns...she might even own me. Who knows? **

Following that incident, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy kept an annoyingly close watch on Lyriella. They no longer left her alone for more than the amount of time it took for one parental unit to leave the room and the other to arrive. Even for a now two year old girl, it was suffocating, to say the least.

Over the next couple months Lyriella's speech and literacy skills continued to improve at a shocking rate, though no more so than her magical abilities. One morning, Narcissa could have sworn she spotted Lyriella hidden behind a rather large tome from the Malfoy library, ingesting every bit of information the text had to offer. However, when the skeptical woman had gone to investigate, the little black haired girl was no where in sight. This particular talent became a quick irritant for the couple. Narcissa secretly began calling it Lyriella's "disappearing act", and unfortunately for her parents; she was getting annoyingly good at it.

The Malfoy matriarch was completely aware of the limitations every two year old had in their travels, so it entirely baffled her as to how her daughter could go missing on one side of the house one moment, and the next Lucius would appear with the child in hand claiming he'd found the little minx on the entirely opposite side of the manor up to her usual mischief. But the thing was, the distances covered by the toddler should have been an impossible feat for any child her age due to the great number of obstacles she would have encountered; master staircases and locked doors for example. Keeping this in mind, Narcissa began to suspect early forms of apparition were to blame. She had voiced these opinions to her husband, fully expecting him to scoff at her, but instead he became very quiet and looked over at the toddler in question with a knit in his brow.

Narcissa knew the idea of a magically enhanced daughter frightened her husband as it did her, though not in the conventional way. After a bit of research into the subject, Lucius was quick to inform his wife of what he learned. As it turns out, though magical development at such a young age _was_ rare, it was not unheard of. This knowledge only brought the concerned mother a moments comfort because his next statement made her blood run cold.

Apparently in all recorded cases, the infant would often die before reaching the age of five due to some sort of magic overload. It seemed that the bodies of young children weren't equipped with the necessary elements to contain, much less control such power.

After hearing this Narcissa began to consider consulting some sort of Medi-witch in the hopes of finding some reassurance that perhaps Lyriella's lifespan wouldn't be cut so short. However upon discussion, her husband dismissed the idea almost immediately. Lucius explained that he'd further investigated the matter at the Ministry and certain well hidden documents hinted that when the Ministry had discovered such children in the past, they had be abducted from the parents under false pretenses. Shocked, and more than a little disturbed by this, Naricissa never broached the subject again.

For this reason the Malfoy family began to pull away from it's previous life style. In order to keep their daughter's secret hidden, parties and gatherings at the manor were to a minimal as were family outings. Especially after a particular incident involving a number of party guests and a cranky Lyriella. It appeared that because the girl was so young and had yet to gain a handle on her abilities, her emotions controlled them for her. This often resulted in catastrophic explosions, courtesy of a two year old's tantrum.

Needless to say, this detachment began to affect Lucius's popular standing within the Ministry; which was of course, completely unacceptable by every one of his standards. This situation is what led the wizard to making the difficult decision of letting a third person in on his and Narcissa's 'little secret'. Protocols would be taken of course to ensure the family's safety; but it was of utmost importance that Lyriella learned to control her abilities. Otherwise, Lucius would be at risk of losing what alliances that remained after his incarceration.

xxx

Said 'third person' came in the form of one Mr. Severus Snape, as the parchment had read, delivered by a particularly unfriendly avian at the arse crack of dawn the following morning. The potions master wasn't what one would describe as a morning person, especially when it began with an aerial attack executed by Lucius Malfoy's hellion of an owl on his face. With a growl and more than a couple swears, the dark man lifted himself from his mattress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to receive a letter that he'd rather burn then read; considering who it was from. No good ever came from anything Lucius went out of his way to accomplish. With this mind, Severus tore the parchment from the bird's foot and shooed it away. Apollo, as Lucius had once introduced the owl as, let out a disgruntled huff and pecked at the potions master's fingers in irritation.

"Off with you, you bloody pigeon." Severus narrowed his eyes at the feathered creature before him. "I have no use for your services at the moment nor do I have any wish to reward you for rousing me at an completely inappropriate hour. Leave!" He growled pointing a long pale finger at the exit.

Of course Apollo paid little mind to the hissing man and instead perched himself smugly on the ledge above the chamber door, his large topaz eyes never leaving the wizard. It occurred to Severus that the bird might be waiting for a written response to deliver to it's master, which unfortunately, only confirmed his earlier suspicions. If Lucius was indeed expecting a reply then it could only mean the parchment Snape now held contained some sort of carefully phrased request that likely disguised it's true intent behind masterly crafted words.

Sure enough, beneath the Malfoy seal, the letter contained a brief note 'requesting' Severus's presence at the manor the moment the message reached his possession. The potions master scowled down at the expensive piece of parchment in his hand. It displeased him that Lucius expected him to ask; 'how high?' every time the insufferable man commanded 'jump!'. Under normal circumstances, Severus would have completely disregarded the note with the single minded intention to vex the blonde wizard he _sometimes_ called 'friend', but something about the hurriedly penned words refrained him from doing so. Though the note was short and intentionally vague in content; the potions master could sense the undertones of distress within the message. Which may have been why, instead of snarling at the bird and returning to bed as his condescending half demanded, he tore himself from the sheets cussing in several different languages and inked a quick, if not borderline rude, reply to the owl's owner. Apollo took one last nip at Severus fingers before flying out, resealed letter in claw.

xxx

Fortunately for Severus Snape, the Hogwarts students were currently away from the school on their annual Christmas vacation, so the pale man had to worry very little for who saw him exit the castle and trudge through the Forbidden Forest to apparate. Not that he would have minded handing out a couple extended holiday detentions to all those whom felt the need to comment on their professor's odd behavior. In fact he would have appreciated the outlet. The man was in a right foul mood and he had a feeling it would only get worse by the visit's end.

Severus arrived at Malfoy manor moments later, stepping through the heavily warded gates as if they were nothing but vapor and into the mansion with little discretion for the knocker. Lucius, having expected Snape's arrival, met the second wizard in the foyer with a grim expression.

The first thing Snape noticed upon arrival was despite his composed outward appearance, his longtime friend seemed utterly exhausted; as indicated by Lucius's slightly slouched posture in comparison to his usually proud stance. Though the slight change was subtle, it almost looked as if within the span of time between their last meeting and the present moment, Lucius had somehow accumulated the world's worth of internal struggles to balance on his shoulders. It shocked Severus, but made him all the more curious to know the reason behind his own presence.

"Severus, I'm glad you came so quickly." The silvery wizard said on exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Lucius. Always a pleasure." Severus remarked with not a little sarcasm. "If this is some sort of elaborate ploy of yours to procure yet another signature of mine, I'm leaving." He was only half joking.

Despite himself, Lucius snickered at his friend's customary distrustful disposition. "As paranoid as ever, I see." He replied on turn, heading for the drawing room at the other end of the hall. He didn't look back to see if Severus had taken the silent command to follow.

With a growl, the pale man followed suit though his grimace deepened substantially. "You're one to speak on the concepts of paranoia. It wasn't I who sent that overly suspicious and heavily warded letter to myself." The silvery man didn't reply so Severus continued speaking, all the while glaring holes in the back of Malfoy's head. "What is this all about, Lucius? I have very little patience this day. All you wrote was that it was a matter of monumental importance and my presence was required here immediately. I do not see the manor in the process of being attacked by a mob of rampaging ogres nor is it burning to the ground. What is of such precedence that you all but threatened the lives of my unborn children to insure my attendance?"

With his trademark smirk in place, Lucius turned back to his friend. "Hmm. Strange." He said, arching a brow. "I don't recall threatening your manhood either, but I suppose we could make arrangements if your so inclined to complain."

Severus crossed his arms and continued to glare, thoroughly fed up with the whole ordeal. Lucius, observing this, sighed and dropped the façade. "The reason I asked you here _is_ of utmost importance, and is something I would only ever trust with you." Snape arched an eyebrow of his own at the other wizard's _touchy sentiment. _"But," Lucius continued, his eyes hardening, "as you previously stated I'm also one to be cautious in all types of situations; this one included. So before we go any further I require your word that everything disclosed to you this morning you keep to your self and no one else." Lucius drew his wand; an indication he had every intention of forcing Severus's vow if need be.

Severus scowled at Malfoy. "You intend for me to make an unbreakable vow blindly, without knowing to which end you now stand?"

Lucius smirked once more. _And he calls me paranoid_, Lucius thought. _Must be an occupational hazard. _"Hardly, Severus. I'm not so naive as to believe even I could force you into such an arrangement. A simple binding vow will suffice, I think. You won't die if you break it, but things…could get unpleasant."

"I'm well versed in the rules of binding spells, Lucius. No need to explain them to me." the potions master sneered. "I suppose I except," he continued after a pause. "After all what choice do I have."

With that he drew his own wand and took his companion's offered hand into his own. "I vow to keep all I learn this morning to my own knowledge _unless _it endangers my life or the lives of others I see fit to protect." He stated, tapping his knuckles twice with his wand. Lucius didn't look entirely satisfied with the wording but agreed none the less, repeating the words in a slightly different order and imitating Severus's wand movements exactly.

"Now, explain.." Severus drawled, pulling away.

Instead of answering, the infuriating man turned his heel once more and entered the doorway that Severus knew led to the drawing room. Scowling once more, he followed.

xxx

Lucius entered the room to find Narcissa lounging elegantly out on one of the many daybeds scattered around the hearth, a book in hand, and a watchful eye on the playing toddlers occupying the carpet beneath her. At the sound of his entry, she glanced up from her literature to offer him a small smile and nod to the man at his back.

"Severus." she said in greeting.

"Narcissa." He replied with a returning nod.

"Ella, come here darling." the witch said silkily after a moment, turning to the little girl beside Draco. Her brother didn't look at all pleased at having his play time cut short and whined in complaint when his sister vacated the spot beside him in favor of her mother's lap. She clutched an expensive looking teddy bear with big brown eyes and soft faux fur that looked lumpy in areas. Lucius suspected she'd been drooling on it considering it's frazzled condition. With a smirk he advanced the two females, patting his son's head affectionately as he passed, gesturing for Severus to follow.

At the daybed the silvery man crouched down before his wife and child, so he was level with Lyriella's eyes. "Hello, Lyriella." he said softly, taking hold of the hand that wasn't grasping the stuffed animal.

"Hello, papa." she replied sweetly with a smile. Then she looked up at the dark man towering over the three and graced him with a second beautiful smile. "Hello, Uncle Severus." her voice like a bell. "What are you doing here?"

Lucius watched his companion's expression carefully. Though Severus was nothing if not an expert at keeping his emotions behind a carefully composed mask, he couldn't seem to prevent his inky black eyes from widening just a fraction and the slight gasp that escaped his lips. The Malfoy patriarch smirked. He could imagine the thoughts racing through Severus's mind at the moment.

And racing they were. Before Snape could stop it, each of these half-baked thoughts formed at his lips in silent questions. Fortunately he was able to prevent them from escaping his tightly clasped lips before he made a utter fool of himself. In his Hogwarts years, Severus never did like those attention seeking know-it-alls that sought to ask an innumerable amount of questions in quick succession with their 'thirst for knowledge' as their only excuse. He'd sooner pay Dumbledore a compliment then imitate their idiocracy now as a grown man. So instead, Severus's brilliantly intellectual mind decided to state the obvious.

"She is only two."This had to be some form of trickery, the wizard concluded. There was no way a child of such a young age could already have a complete understanding and impeccable pronunciation of a language. _But to what end would Lucius stage this?_ He wondered, with narrowed eyes.

Lyriella looked up at him, quite annoyed that he was speaking about her as if she wasn't present. "Two and a half, actually." She muttered grumpily.

Lucius smirked at his daughter's cheeky response but patted her knee; communicating to be patient. Draco had long sense grown bored of his solitary play time and abandoned his toys on the floor to find solace beside his sister on the daybed. He had climbed up the height with great perseverance before he plopped gracelessly down beside his twin with an exhausted sigh as his mother's free arm wound around his middle.

"Lyriella here, has been developing at an _unusual _rate for about a year now. She's been talking sense last spring and walking sense before that. And though she refuses to admit it," Lucius continued, leveling his daughter with a disapproving look, "I have reason to believe that she can understand literature to a small extent." Lyriella rolled her celestial blue eyes at her father in response and turned to her brother who was beginning to insistently poke at her. She gave him a quick flick to the forehead in return and the prodding stopped instantaneously.

"So your child's either highly developed for one of her age or is some sort of prodigy." Severus remarked with a bored expression and detached voice. "I hardly see how that requires my immediate attention."

"Because my friend," Lucius answered, standing once more to his original height. "Lyriella's intelligence reaches far beyond the limitations of simply speech and an extended learning capability. She performing _magic_." He hissed. "And not just moving objects from one place to another…Though she can do that to herself easily enough." Malfoy muttered as an after thought. Though neither he or Narcissa had yet to bare witness to her actually performing apparation, evidence suggested that was exactly what she'd been doing.

Severus didn't even bother to hide his shocked expression upon hearing this but before he could voice his astoundment, he was interrupted by an irritated _huff!_

"Could you stop talking about me like I'm not sitting _right_ here?" Lyriella growled, well beyond annoyed. Narcissa gave her a pinch for disrespect but the girl paid it little mind. She glowered up at the wizards' above her, a prominent pout shaping her lips.

Lucius narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "Now, now Lyriella. Don't be rude." Gently tapping her cheek twice before turning back to his brooding companion. "Shall we discuss this elsewhere, Severus? There are quite a few things I wish to elaborate on and it won't do to be interrupted every other moment." At this he caught Lyriella's eye, but she quickly looked away and pretended to be fascinated by the stitching of her mother's dress.

At the potions master's nod the two men each paid their farewells, and vacated the room to seek privacy within Lucius's own quarters.

xxx

"If what you are saying is true, Lucius, you do indeed have much to worry about." Severus muttered from his seat. The potions master understood very well what it meant for a child to harness so much power at a young age. He also wasn't the least bit surprised to discover that the Ministry had a hand in so many gifted children's "disappearances". However, despite Lucius's hopes, Severus admitted to possessing very little information regarding the children and even less on the 'official' methods of treating one. Though he did have a number of theories, none of them had been before tested due for obvious reasons.

What Snape could tell his companion was that to his knowledge; the more potent the child's ability, the shorter said child's life span tended to be. Five years was generous, and usually only applied to those individuals whose abilities weren't particularly developed.

Lyriella, as the dark man had come to realize, was anything but "under developed". From what Malfoy was telling him, she had a chaotic amount of power at her disposal. Though it seemed more like _she_ was at her power's disposal in terms of control. Severus completely agreed that she needed assistance in reclaiming that control, and some how Lucius had managed to weasel yet another reluctant agreement from him. According to the blonde wizard, Severus _should_ consider it; 'putting his exceptional teaching abilities to good use.'

xxx

As Severus returned to Hogwarts that night, he couldn't help wondering if this was the right step to take for Lucius's mental wellbeing. The potions master estimated the young girl wouldn't make it past her third birthday considering how quickly her magic was manifesting. He wasn't too confident in Lucius's or Narcissa's ability of handling the death of one of their children.

And then Severus wondered why he even cared. Since Lily's death, the potions master had found it exceedingly difficult to pity anyone else's situation, so why was this any different? But even as he asked himself this question, Severus knew. Despite his valiant efforts to remain detached with the toddlers, those children had grown on him like bungle root foot fungus. Though slightly less pleasant in his opinion. It wasn't an unusual occurrence that on the off chance, Severus would pay a visit to the Malfoy manor on weekends, whether it be out of boredom or Lucius's insisted request. Either way, on these visits somehow he'd always wind up spending the majority of his time in the company of the Malfoy youngsters.

Of course in the beginning, when relationships had yet to be established, the reluctant Godfather treated the youths as one would a relative's pet they didn't particularly like. In a word, he tolerated them. Unfortunately for Snape's dignity, for reasons even he couldn't fathom, the two toddlers _adored_ him. Snarky attitude and all. Worse of all, they weren't the least bit frightened of him and because of this Snape often found himself in situations that he hadn't the faintest idea how to handle.

On one particular occasion, Severus remembered the two had clung to his legs the entire duration of his visit begging for attention and such from their "Uncle". He had tried to be firm with them and had even demonstrated his notorious 'Professor' tone to get the point across, but they were relentless in their quest for his affection. Eventually he'd given up and allowed them to do as they wished, which to his irritation involved climbing him like a scowling tree.

Snape would have requested assistance from either of the parental units if one had been present, however they were both _conveniently _preoccupied elsewhere at that time leaving him to deal with their spawns' mischief alone.

Severus didn't know when it happened, but somewhere among all those visits and social interactions he had begun to feel something akin to _affection_ for the children. This of course was a completely unwelcome emotion for the potions master. After Lily he never wanted to expose himself to that kind of weakness again, but it was inevitable. As difficult as it was to admit to himself, Severus cherished those children whether he liked it or not.

Which was why the idea of little Ella meeting an untimely death made his stomach twist in sickening knots and bile creep up his throat.

It was then, as Severus soundlessly traveled down the empty corridors leading back to the dungeons, Snape promised himself that he'd do everything in his power to keep his Goddaughter safe and alive. Perhaps this time the fates would take pity on him and he'd succeed.

**Thank you so much for reading! Don't forget to review! **


	6. Birthdays and Bed Time Stories

**Author's note: I'm really sorry for the late update guys! I think I jinxed myself with that last AN. *Sigh* I should know better than to be that optimistic. Anyway, GREAT NEWS! Garden of Eden officially has 400+ hits, which means people are interested right? Unfortunately, Garden of Eden also only has 5 reviews which means you guys really don't like reviewing. Don't get me wrong, I ADORE the ones I have received & I'm not about to start withholding chapters or anything. After all, I am writing this for 'me'. But guys, I can't improve without feedback. Whether it's a positive or negative response, I couldn't care less. BUT PLEASE REVIEW. Thank You =)**

**Also, some more good news! Scabior will likely be making his first appearance in the next chapter! I'm so so so excited to hear what you guys think of him. So for all those who were wondering, there's your answer.**

**Disclaimer: Same as always. Everything that sounds familiar J.K Rowling owns...she might even own me. Who knows?**

"Psst. Ella are you awake?"

"No." Lyriella grumbled into her pillow.

Pause.

"Yes, you are," the voice stubbornly insisted.

"No, I'm not. Come back later. Preferably when the sun's out." The floorboards were silent, which could only mean he was still there. With a sigh, Lyriella rolled lazily over in her sheets to glare up at her bed side intruder.

"What do you want, Draco?" she huffed. It was still dark outside so her twin's face was effectively cloaked in shadow.

"I can't sleep." He whined, pulling nervously at the pale material of his night shirt. He flashed his biggest puppy dog eyes at his sister. "Can I come in there with you?"

"You know Father doesn't like us sharing a bed anymore, Draco. He says we're to old." But even as she said this, Lyriella scooted over on the mattress and lifted the sheets enough for him to get settled.

"Yeah, well it's a special occasion." The boy replied with a yawn. "It _is_ our birthday after all."

Lyriella smirked into the dark. "If he said we were too old for it at three I doubt us turning four is going to alter his opinion all that much."

"Ahh, Ella. Don't be a spoilsport." the blonde boy complained, poking his sister playfully in the side. "Besides, what Father doesn't know can't hurt him."

Lyriella snickered. "Careful there Draco, your beginning to sound like me."

"It was bound to happen some time. We've been together since birth after all."

The girl turned to face her brother in the dark and ruffled his baby fine hair. "Why can't you sleep in your own room anyway?"

Her question lingered between them in silence. "It's that nightmare again, isn't it?" Ella asked quietly, sensing rather then seeing Draco nod his silvery head in confirmation. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, wrapping her nightgown clad arms around his tiny waist.

After another lengthy pause the dark haired twin assumed her brother wasn't going to answer but then he said; "It was the same one as always. There was fire everywhere and we got separated. I called for you but you never came back to me." His voice was wobbly as he made a pathetic attempt to hide his tears from his sister. Feeling more than a little useless, Lyriella hugged Draco closer to her chest in a helpless attempt to comfort him.

"It's okay, Dragon." Lyriella whispered, using his favorite nickname. "I'll never leave you so don't worry. I'm your sister; which means I will always protect you, okay?"

Draco shifted his head on the pillow to look in the general direction of her face. "Promise?" He whimpered, wiping his nose indignantly on the cuff of his sleeve, and offering his pinky into the darkness.

"Promise." Lyriella replied confidently, grasping his offered appendage with her own.

After that the two laid in relative silence, with the exception of Draco's occasional hiccup, each providing comfort and security for the other; their fingers remained linked. "Ella?" Draco asked softly after what felt like hours. "Will you do that thing?"

Lyriella sighed drowsily. She didn't have to ask to know what he meant. "If I do will you go to sleep?"

"Yes, I promise." he replied quickly, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

"Alright then." The female Malfoy worked to disentangle herself from her brother before pulling her arms up from under the covers and positioning the sheets comfortably beneath her arm pits. Then she narrowed her eyes in concentration at the swaying shadows directly above the canopy bed. "Once upon a time, there was a Prince of Dragons named Draco_"

"Who was brave and strong and better than all the other Princes!" her twin interrupted hurriedly. He shut up immediately after he felt the impatient look she sent his way.

"Yeah, yeah. He was brave and strong and all that." Lyriella continued with a huff. "One day the King of Dragons approached the Prince with an offer."

Though Draco was avidly listening to his sister's tale, he eyes remained transfixed on the shadows above. No longer were they abstract shapes, swaying in gentle unison with the window curtains. Now, thanks to Lyriella's manipulations, they were the highly distinguishable silhouettes of a young boy bearing a crown and a old twisted man communicating his "offer" with the Prince.

"The deal was if the Prince could go forth into the Underlands and return with the legendary Golden Dragon egg alive, then the King would relinquish his throne and Prince Draco would be free to take it for himself. The ignorant Prince agreed because he was much too young and pure hearted to see through the foul King's deceit. What Prince Draco didn't know was that the King secretly envied the boy's strength and popularity so he created this elaborate plot to trick the Prince into accepting a mission that was impossible for even a grown man. He knew the Prince would blindly except the challenge, completely unaware of the obstacles he'd be sure to meet in his travels. Each as deadly as the last."

"Boo!" Draco shout-whispered at the wickedly grinning King that the shadows had now taken the form of. He then stuck his tongue out at the menacing silhouette and hissed fiercely; "You evil King! Prince Draco will never lose to a cretin like you!"

Lyriella smirked at her brother's dramatics and continued on with the tale. She often told stories like these to Draco, shadow puppets included, but he only ever wanted to hear the ones about Prince Draco. So Ella had to get creative. That night, instead of single handedly defeating a rapid pack of werewolves, Ella had the Prince solve a sphinx's riddle. _Of course_ he answered the question correctly, all thanks to his intellectual prowess. Much to Draco's constant nagging, the stories always ended the same way; with Prince Draco defying the odds and saving the day. He would then retrieve the egg, gallivant right back to the Dragon Kingdom, and claim his throne. _La de da. _But this time, just for kicks, Lyriella decided to humor her brother with an unexpected twist.

"Unexpectedly, the evil king had one more trick up his sleeve!" Lyriella cackled, much to her twin's delight. "He kidnapped the Prince's sister and claimed she'd been captured by the Evil Queen Mab. The Prince Draco knew the only way to save her was by relinquishing possession of the dragon egg, thus giving up rights to the throne, and returning to the Underlands to rescue her. Draco didn't spare a second thought for the egg or throne as he ran to reclaim the Princess. But before he'd even reached the palace doors, she appeared out of thin air.

Apparently the King hadn't known she was an expert at picking locks and had escaped the palace dungeons all on her own. She then quickly relayed this tale to her brother and all the other court officials. The King was immediately eradicated from the throne for his heinous crimes and the Prince of Dragons became the new King. Everybody cheered and the Kingdom had a year long party to celebrate with candy and balloons and no bed times! The end." Lyriella finished breathlessly. The finale wasn't quite as clever as she'd have liked but her control over the 'shadow puppets' had been dwindling and sure enough once the story came to a close, they dissipated; returning to their previous shapeless forms. Draco, however, didn't seem to mind or notice the rushed ending. Instead he giggled with glee, just as he always did when the Prince became a King.

"You were in the story this time!" he whispered excitedly.

Lyriella scoffed. "I never said the Princess's name was Ella, dummy. Maybe I just made her up." But Draco wasn't fooled. He just continued grinning into the darkness.

"Yeah, but you said she was really good at picking locks. Just like you! How else would you get behind all those locked doors?"

Lyriella smirked at her brother and gave a quick, well aimed flick to the center of his forehead. "You know perfectly well how I do that, twerp. And no, I am not going to use that particular skill now to fetch you a cookie from the kitchens. Mother already said you were getting pudgy."

"I am not!" Draco yelled in outrage.

"_SShhhhhh!_" his sister giggled. "Not so loud! Do you want to get caught?"

Draco huffed irritability but quieted down. Lyriella had almost thought he'd fallen asleep until he asked: "Why do you think you can do all that cool stuff with shadows and I can't? I mean, we're twins so shouldn't I be able to?" Pause. "Do you think I'm a squib?"

Lyriella could tell it was something he'd thought about a lot from the way his voice wavered. "Don't be an idiot. You're a Malfoy remember? You'll probably be every bit as strong as Father once you develop your powers. So stop thinking about stupid things." Lyriella wasn't sure if she believed any of this or not but it seemed to cheer Draco up, so it served it's purpose.

"Yeah. I guess your right. Besides we can't all be freaks like you__Hey!" _He yelled rubbed the spot that his sister had moments ago pinched.

"Hays for horses. Better for cows. Pigs can't eat it cause they don't know how." Lyriella smirked.

"That's foolish." Draco grumbled. "Where'd you hear that?"

"A muggle book."

"Ella! You aren't allowed read muggle books! Remember what happened last time Father found you with one? I thought he was going to hex you into next week!" Draco hissed, sitting up.

"You worry to much, brother o' mine. It's like you said before; 'What Father doesn't know can't hurt him.' Besides, I don't see what's so bad about them. They're actually really amusing." she replied nonchalantly picking at the comforter.

Draco groaned, dramatically falling back to his pillow and grumbled, "It's your funeral I suppose." After a pause he turned back to his sister and asked with not a little suspicion; "Where'd you find a muggle book anyhow? I know Father doesn't keep any in the library."

Lyriella bit her lip and pretended to not have heard him correctly.

"Ella_" Draco moaned impatiently, giving her a quick pinch. "Tell me."

"I found a couple at 'Florish and Blotts' the last time we went. Father was too busy talking to some Ministry Official to notice when I bought them." she finally replied reluctantly. "I used my own spending money so I didn't have to ask his permission." A second pause. "And I can practically feel you drilling holes in my head with all that glaring so stop."

"I wasn't."

"Don't lie. Twin-epathy remember? I can always tell when your lying." Lyriella stated haughtily.

It was quiet again until Draco once again disturbed it with his tactless curiosity. "When are you going to tell Mother and Father that you can control shadows?"

Lyriella groaned and tried to suffocate herself with her pillow. "I thought you said you'd go to sleep after the story?"

"I'll go to sleep after you answer the question." the young boy replied with arrogance that could only rival his father's.

"Or I could just kick you out of my room." Ella muttered, only half joking. Draco pinched her again which she returned with a flick of her own but answered him none the less. "I already have those stupid private sessions with Uncle Severus three times a week. If they knew I could do anything other than make the air explode, they'd probably quarantine me and up my lessons to like everyday. That's not exactly my idea of fun."

Draco scowled. "That's true. Mum makes me visit the Crabb's and Goyle's whenever you're at lessons. I don't think I'd be able to stand an extended stay with either of those block heads."

"See? It's a win win situation as long as you keep your big mouth shut like you promised. Besides, it's not like I can't control my powers, so the classes would be pointless anyway."

Draco paused and then grinned wickedly. "I guess your right but maybe you should go get me that cookie to insure that my 'mouth stays shut.'

He didn't even see the punch coming. "Ow! Bloody hell Ella, I was only joking!" he sputtered, holding his nose. Lyriella knew she hadn't hit her twin that hard but Draco was kind of a pansy.

"Well, that's what you get for trying to blackmail your better half."

The boy pouted and turned away from his sister. "I'm going to sleep now." he grouched. Ella couldn't help smiling smugly at her small victory. _About time! _

xxx

Lucius Malfoy smirked from the open door way of his daughter's bedroom. His two children made quite a picture, snuggled comfortably together under Lyriella's puffy sea foam green coverlets. _Predictable_, Lucius thought as he gazed down fondly at the sibling Malfoys, feeling something between exasperation and pride. When one of the many house elves had informed the patriarch that Draco was absent from his bed sheets that morning, the first place he looked was Lyriella's room. Sure enough, there the little delinquent snoozed beside his sister, both completely oblivious of their silent spectator. Lucius momentarily considered waking up the children to deliver a well deserved lecture for their disobedience, but decided against it. He was hardly in the mood to be at odds with the youngsters so early in the morning. Besides, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't feeling a tad bit elated at the moment.

It was the day. The day that marked the end of his and Narcissa's seemingly endless worrying. Of course they weren't completely in the clear as of yet but they were defiantly in the grey; which was an awfully nice place to be considering where they had been two years prior.

It had began two winters back, after that meeting he'd arranged between Severus and himself. Upon returned to Hogwarts, the potions master had promptly informed that imbecile of a Headmaster that he'd be taking a couple weeks off for what he called a 'solitary investigation'. Lucius hadn't received any word from his dark companion for another three months. After which he returned with a slight limp in his left leg and a rather thick file positively bursting with information likely obtained through old debts, stolen documents, and/or black mail. None of which, Lucius held any reservations for, thus he eagerly excepted the new input despite it's original origin or the methods used to obtain it. As for the limp, Severus gave no further explanation for that other than an rather animalistic snarl.

Anyhow, the reason for Lucius's current vivacity was because somewhere within that massive, over stuffed file, in dark blue ink, was written; '_A prodigy child's life span is completely determined by their individual magic potency. A child with weaker abilities will likely live the better portion of five years before they expire. If this child does not expire by their fifth birthday then it's safe to assume their life span will continue at a normal rate. However, a child with more powerful skills will not likely pass the age of four. If said child is not expired by thus many years, it can also be assumed that their lives will too continue at a normal rate.' _

Lucius didn't particularly know how he felt immediately after reading that. Part of him was relieved that there was still hope for Lyriella but another was completely terrified that each day would be her last. Of course, none of this did much for Narcissa's nerves and she had grown increasingly more skittish with each passing week. But now, all Lucius could feel was the relief. The storm is finally over, as Severus had said. Now, if all went well, things could finally return to how they should be.

A loud _Pop!_ disrupted Lucius's internal musings. The patriarch turned to glare at the new arrival with irritation.

"Missus Malfoy wishes Dobby to ready the childerns, Sir." Dobby squeaked up at the scowled wizard.

"Well get to it." Lucius replied impatiently, turning his heel, though not without aiming a well placed blow to the side of the insufferable elf's head with the butt of his cane. Dobby hit the tiled floor hard but didn't dare cry out in fear that his master would return. Rubbing his now bruising abrasion and using his dirty rags to wipe at the water forming in his eyes, the scrawny house elf scurried into the child's room lavished in pink and green.

xxx

A disgruntled Lyriella woke to find a desperate looking Dobby pulling at her arm in a pitiful attempt to wake her. "Miss Ella!" Dobby squeaked excitedly when he saw her celestial blue eyes peek out from under her covers. The little girl resisted the urge to groan.

Why couldn't anyone just let her sleep? She felt like she'd only just returned to a blissful dream state when the house elf had roused her. But judging by the bright rays of sunshine filling the room, despite the heavy drapings, that wasn't the case. "Lil' miss and the young master must wake up now!" Dobby insisted as he noticed Lyriella's eyes beginning to droop again. When the girl only continued to ignore him, the elf began to tug at her wrist once more. "Please Lil' miss. Missus Malfoy told Dobby to get the childerns up, so you must!" After a couple more minutes of this to no avail, he finally seemed to become fed up with her childish antics and yanked the blanket from her shivering form in one swift movement. With a surprised hiss followed by an annoyed sigh, Lyriella pushed herself up into a sitting position yawning and fisted the remnants of sleep from her eyes. As much as she genuinely liked Dobby, he could be quite demanding at times.

"Okkk." The girl mumbled, much to the house elf's delight. "I'm up." Lyriella glanced over at her softly snoring brother in irritation. He was drooling all over her favorite squishy pillow. How he'd managed to sleep right through Dobby's earlier racket and the morning chill, she had no idea, but for some reason it annoyed her, so she lifted up her own goose feather pillow and slammed it down on his silvery blonde head.

Draco awoke with a start. "Wha_What?" he shouted, frantically looking around for some imaginary foe, no doubt. "Get up, ya git." Lyriella replied tossing her legs over the side of the bed. "Go get dressed, Mum wants us downstairs." Draco growled something indecipherable under his breath at his sister, before pushing past Dobby to and out the door.

"Alright, Dobby. Let's get this over with." Lyriella exhaled, placing her tiny pale hand in her friend's familiar pink one. Father wouldn't be pleased if he found out about her secret friendship with the elf, but she couldn't work up the effort to make herself care. As far as she was concerned, she could be friends with whoever she wanted. Besides, the house elf was kind and humble and always went out of his way to please people. Though Dobby had quite literally began beating himself bloody with an oil lamp when Lyriella had first proposed a friendship between _'he a house elf, and she a witch'_, he eventually warmed up to the idea. _'As long as Master and Missus_ _never find out'_, he had whispered conspiratorially. Ever since that day over a year ago, the two had formed a comfortable sort of friendship with one another. She would leave little second hand trinkets lying around for him, '_because those he liked best'_, and sometimes he'd leave an extra sweet under her pillow or inside her cloak pocket. At first, Dobby hadn't been at all comfortable with the idea of touching a pureblood witch, but now he held her hand without a second thought as he led the still groggy girl to the wardrobe to be dressed.

"How about the blue one." Lyriella questioned with another yawn.

"Missus wants the Malfoy siblings in customary green today." Dobby squeaked importantly as he riffled through the mesh of expensive material, no doubt in search of a dress in such a shade. Lyriella huffed and rocked back on her heels.

"Yeah but we always wear green. It's so boring."

"Dobby agrees." he replied honestly. "But it's what the Missus wants." With that he pulled out one of Lyriella's more frothy dresses in a shade of light green not so different from that of her bed sheets.

"It'll do I suppose." Ella sighed. At her affirmation Dobby quickly helped his young charge out of her wrinkled night gown and into her day clothes. The dress reached to about her knees and was rimmed with soft white lace at the bottom and cuffs. The long row of pearly black buttons that lined themselves single file down the front of the bosom, matched the soft fawn textured boots that followed soon after the dress. Lyriella had a cloak that completed the set, but she didn't bother with it. It was late spring after all. Dobby made quick work of her glossy black tresses, gently combing through the light waves and applying a ribbon or two for decoration.

Finally Dobby hustled the tiny girl out of the room and to the dining hall. "Dobby," Lyriella whispered, in the corridor outside the closed doors leading to breakfast. "I've left a surprise for you under Fran." she said, referring to the infamous matted brown bear that her Grandfather Abraxas had given her on her second birthday.

Dobby beamed, nodding happily, before magically opening the grand doors and disapparating with a snap of his fingers.

"Ella, what took you so long?" Draco questioned from his seat to the right of their father, his mouth full of half chewed food. He didn't miss the sharp look the Malfoy patriarch sent his way and immediately looked contrite. This time Draco made a point to swallow his eggs before speaking. "Fall back asleep, did you?" he smirked.

"No." Lyriella grouched as she made her way to her own seat parallel to Draco's. "Some of us can't just slap a pile of goo on our heads and call it decent." she retorted haughtily, purposely running a hand through her brother's hair as she passed to mess up it's sleek style."

"Hey!" He yelped, pushing his twin away and making a vain attempt to fix the blonde mess.

Lyriella snickered as she took her place, nodding respectively to both parents before reaching for a piece of toast. Narcissa whom was situated in the seat beside Ella's, _'because the remaining end chair was so terribly __far down on the other side of the table'_, smiled at her daughter and gave her head an affectionate pat. "Happy birthday, darling." the woman cooed.

"Thanks Mum," Lyriella said with a grin, though hurriedly correcting herself at her father's disapproving glare. "Er, Mother." Narcissa continued smiling, oblivious to the small exchange.

The meal continued onward without incident, and after a bit of polite chatter between the adults and the twins' poor attempts to kick one another beneath the table without raising suspicious, Lucius finally addressed his children. "I suppose the two of you will be wanting to go to Diagon Ally and chose your gifts." The Malfoy twins ceased their folly immediately to stare at each other and then grinned in unison at their father.

"Yes, Father!" They enthused together. Both siblings were equally excited for the trip, though for completely separate reasons. Draco was anticipating the many gifts he was sure to chose in quick succession while Lyriella was thrilled just to get out of the manor. It didn't happen much considering her lessons took a hefty amount of time out of her daily schedule.

"We Floo in fifteen minutes; gather anything you may need for the trip and meet your mother and I at the master fireplace immediately after." Lucius drawled but the twins were already out of their seats and halfway to the exit before he'd even finished his sentence. The silvery man scowled after his spawn, reprehending words at the tip of his tongue but the snickering to his left distracted him.

"And what is so amusing, my dear?" He questioned with an obvious bite to his tone. Narcissa ignored it and went right on chuckling at her husband's expense.

"They're just impatient. Remind you of anyone?" She smirked, the insinuation quite clear.

"Now that you mention it, their insubordination does strike a chord." Lucius replied, smirking right back. "I'm thinking someone about five foot seven, with a sharp tongue and magnificent breasts."

"Don't downplay yourself, love. You're six feet at least."

The Malfoy patriarch scowled after the infuriating woman as she sashayed away, a grin plastered to her delicately painted lips.

_Wrench. _

**Thank you so much for reading. PLEASE review! **


	7. Lost in a Crowd

**Author's Note: I'm sooo sorry for the long wait guys. Life got in the way. But to make it up to you, this is the Scabior chapter! Finally, right? I'm also super proud to announce that GOE is up to 1,900 hits. YAY! Thank you so much to those who have reviewed! They made me smile like an idiot.**

**Important Notice: I've published some artwork for this story, links are on my profile page! Feel free to check them out!**

**Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape, or form own the Harry Potter universe.. J.K ROWLING DOES.. (DANG IT!)**

She didn't know how it happened, but somewhere between the post office and _Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Palour, _Miss Lyriella Malfoy had become undoubtedly lost.

In other words, exactly what _wasn't_ supposed to happen, happened.

When the Malfoy family had first stepped out from the public Floo network located just across from _Madam Malkin's,_ the young girl had thought that the day was positively gleaming with untapped potential, but now, after this little dash of misfortune, she was very nearly convinced that this was fate's way of punishing her for being too optimistic.

_What had gone wrong?_ Lyriella wondered.

Upon entering Diagon Alley, she and Draco had instinctively joined hands as if each was an extension of the other's body. This not only served as a illogical form of comfort between the pair but it was also an effective way to prevent the likely scenario of separation within the crowd. Both siblings knew that nothing could damper an outing like a furious Lucius Malfoy resulting from a missing child.

Irony was very quickly becoming Lyriella's least favorite thing.

With a slight frown and a knit in her brow, the ebony haired girl leaned against a nearby lamp post, contemplating her morning. It had definitely _began _on a positive note. Their first stop had been to _Quality Quiddich Supplies_ where Draco had practically drooled over the new _Astrid 900_ with a small group of like minded children while Ella had amused herself with the tiny silver figurines arranged against the front windows that danced and twirled whenever you whistled. Her favorite had been a miniature broom that bobbed and fell just like the real thing. She hadn't been very good at it, so a friendly employee had taken pity on her crestfallen expression and whistled a few notes to get the little toys moving again.

Her father had not been amused. He'd stalked right over with a scowl in place and promptly shooed her away. Lyriella thought maybe she'd heard him hiss something at the kind old man as she scurried back to her mother's side, but whatever had been said, she'd missed it.

Nothing was purchased at _Quality Quiddich Supplies_ that morning, though Draco had all but demanded to be bought a broom stick; a request abruptly denied to him by their mother.

"Perhaps when you are older." she'd said, with a kind smile. The boy had been hasty to work up a tantrum but one look from Lucius and he'd shut up right quick.

After that, the Malfoy family had wandered the cobblestone streets in a nearly aimless fashion, only stopping whenever something caught Draco's eye. Lyriella had yet to find anything she found worthy her time or pocket money. What she'd really wanted were more story books from _Florish and Blotts,_ but the kinds she liked weren't written by witches or wizards and Lyriella valued her life, and back side, enough to keep that particular desire to herself.

Now and then, Draco would pull her over to one shop window or another to eagerly cover them with his fingerprints and foggy breath. Though the objects displayed in those windows were all new and interesting to look at, it had been the happily bustling customers that held Lyriella's undivided attention. Or they were until she spotted a tiny flying object overhead. Upon closer inspection Ella discovered it was really a tiny white owl, maybe the size of her fist. It had flown in zigzag patterns above the heads of potential customers, stopping only a moment to perform a loop, then zoomed right back to a sign advertising the local post office.

Lyriella had immediately wanted to go in, if only to look at the owls for a bit, but Draco was already dragging their parents off in a different direction. She'd paused to glance back at the snowy avian with not a little disappointment and then turned to follow… but she hadn't been entirely sure of which way they had gone. So she guessed.

Lyriella crossed her arms with a huff.

So maybe that hadn't been the best idea. And _maybe_ it wasn't a complete mystery as to how she gotten lost in the first place. Ella could even reluctantly admit that she 'might' have played a part in her own misplacement but she certainly couldn't be blamed for why she now remained lost.

That was _their_ fault. The constant trickle of passing wizard folk who were only to happy to treat her solitary form like an inanimate object.

The couple of times she'd _attempted_ to capture somebody's attention all ended in the same way. With her waving her arms about like a lunatic and them scurrying away, careful to avoid eye contact. Ella was at a loss. She'd have thought someone would question why such a young girl was left alone on a crowded street, but no one stopped to ask. They all just seemed too preoccupied with their own business to even notice her.

Eventually Lyriella gave up, and dejectedly plopped herself down on the nearest curb, ignoring the bits of dirt that clung to the hem of her dress. If her mother was there, she'd sure to be getting an earful on unladylike conduct, but because she wasn't, Ella just enjoyed the small bit of freedom she could exercise by allowing it to linger.

With a annoyed huff, the youngest Malfoy placed her elbows on her knees and rested her chin on her palms. She then proceeded to glare out into the crowd. _This is all their fault_, Lyriella repeated stubbornly. If they hadn't all decided to take a trip to Diagon Alley on her birthday, then maybe she wouldn't have lost sight of her parents in the first place.

It was then that Ella made the decision _not _to move until someone tripped over her. Whoever had the misfortune of falling flat on their face would have no choice but to acknowledge her presence then, now wouldn't they? She smirked at her own wickness and waited for her first victim. But if there was one thing Lyriella Malfoy was completely incapable of, it was waiting. It didn't take long for her patience to wear thin. She tried to ease the familiar tingle by fidgeting. And then tapping her foot. And then…_URG! _She just couldn't take it anymore.

Her parents just _had_ to have noticed her absence by now and were probably backtracking at that very moment. _Father is going to be furious,_ Lyriella thought miserably. That alone was enough to make her slightly less eager to be reunited with her family, but the longer she was missing the angrier he'd be.

With a sigh, Lyriella stood once more, dusted herself off and began walking. Of course she didn't have the foggiest clue _where _she was walking, but the problem solving skills of a four year old are sometimes more abstruse than a ball of yarn. In Ella's mind, it didn't matter which direction she went in because she and her parents would eventually cross paths.

A couple minutes…or was it hours…later, she couldn't decide which, Lyriella was beginning to question her own logic. She was still hopelessly lost and was beginning to think she might have only made the situation worse by walking in demented circles. Her parents were probably retracing their steps which lead Ella to believe that moving around aimlessly probably hadn't the best plan of action.

_So much for above average intelligence._

The little girl didn't notice that she was rythmnatically thumping her forehead against the brick wall of a shop whose sign either fell down or never existed in the first place until an older woman, looking to be in her mid sixties, paused to kindly ask if she was _feeling alright_. Lyriella was momentary distracted from her self mutation by ugliest hat she'd ever before seen, which coincidentally was perched upon 'said' woman's salt and pepper hair, trying to distinguish the color that she wasn't even sure had a name. It was nausating combination of brown and what _used _to be green resulting in something closer to troll vomit. What looked to be a stuffed vulture was pinned to the fabric with a utopia of multicolored sunflowers, clips, and buttons. She didn't realize she was staring, slightly gap mouthed too, until the witch inquired a second time if she was _indeed alright_, the concern in her pretty brown eyes growing.

But like a git, Lyriella forfeited temporary control of her vocal cords to her embarrassment and squeaked out a quick "Yes Ma'am, thank you Ma'am," jerking her head up and down in what could have been a nod if she hadn't looked like she was experiencing neck spasms and high tailing it in the opposite direction as fast as her little legs could carry her. The lady shouted something after her but Ella was already too far away to make out what it was.

It didn't occur to Lyriella until after she'd ducked into a near by alley that she'd just willingly passed up an offer for help, something she was currently in dire need of. The young girl scowled internally chanting; _idiot idiot idiot._

She considered going back but the woman was probably long gone by now, so with a sigh, Ella began walking again. She was vaguely aware of the sudden change of scenery but it wasn't until she stumbled on her path and had to place a steadying hand on the nearest stone wall that she finally took note of her surrounds. Lyriella suddenly wished she knew a word that would be sure to make her mother gawk.

The crooked old buildings, tall enough to block out the sunlight, spoke volumes. It didn't take a genius, or a child prodigy for that matter, to figure out just where she was. That being right smack dab in the middle of the place she shouldn't be. Well at least more so than any other destination her usual mischief got her, and for good reason too because Knockturn Alley made the Malfoy wine cellar, which Lyriella secretly had an illogical fear of, look like a box of fluffy white kittens.

Ella didn't know much about Knockturn Alley besides the fact that it wasn't exactly a child friendly place, if the shrunken heads in a nearby shop window were any indication. Most of what she knew came from passing conversation between Uncle Severus and her father when they thought she wasn't listening.

It occurred to Lyriella that Draco would be positively green with envy if he ever discovered where her latest blunder had landed her. Though the thought amused the girl, she just could not fathom why her twin would practically attach himself to their father's ankles whenever he had business to attend to in these dreary old streets. Because who in their right mind would willingly come here?

The people here very much resembled the Alley itself. Much the like the buildings, they leered at you as you passed and seemed to crumble further within themselves with every step that they took. Lyriella didn't know if it was the poor lighting or just her imagination, but every pair of eyes she'd accidentally meet would contain the oddest glint that she didn't entirely like. A sentiment she also felt for a particularly sleazy looking individual that had taken to following her movements with his pitch black orbs from the moment she'd entered the Alley.

Vincent Crabb had once told her, on one of his _infrequent_ visits to the manor, that you should never look a dark wizard in the eye. Something Lyriella had no doubt the strange man was and also something she was trying desperately not to do. But she couldn't control her instinctual urge to _not _turn her back on threat because it was a lesson Uncle Severus had relentlessly instilled in her memory. So instead she focused on a random spot above his left shoulder just long enough to gather a brief description of his facial features so in the likely scenario that she was later attacked she'd have something to offer the aurors. Or more likely in Ella's case, her father considering he once hexed the fingers off a party guest for just _'looking at her the wrong way'_ . Lyriella didn't know the details about that particular incident but it did lead the girl to believe that her father could handle anything, this man included if need be.

It didn't escape Lyriella's notice that said man had inched himself ever so slowly closer from where he previously stood against the opposing building, so she paid particular attention to his distinctively hollowed cheeks and prominent chin bone considering he'd pretty much just announced his intentions to the world with that one subtle movement. She also took note of a abnormally large ring on his right thumb in the shape of a jackal head, just in case.

Choosing not to linger and tempt fate any further, Lyriella turned on her heel and hastened her steps back to the Alley entrance. Only it wasn't there anymore.

Feeling panicked, Ella's eyes darted back and forth but the exit was no where to be found. How was this even possible? Lyriella was _positive_ she hadn't strayed further than a couple paces pass entrance way, and buildings couldn't just grow feet and rearrange themselves… could they? But she couldn't stand there debating it now. Lyriella could have sworn the skeleton man, as she had chosen to call him, was at least a foot closer and she was beginning to attract attention to herself with all her wide eyed panic. Something else you definitely didn't want in Knockturn Alley.

Swallowing the lump in her throat that tasted suspiciously like hysteria, Ella half ran in the direction where the exit _should have been_, 'coincidentally' also the direction opposite of the skeleton man. As Lyriella stumbled along she couldn't help thinking that today was really shaping up to be a total disaster.

xxx

Lyriella may have seriously underestimated the sheer size of Knockturn Alley, but in her defense the name it's self is extremely misleading. For what was supposed to be an 'alley', which implies a straight, one way street lacking in all twists and turns, there was a surprisingly large number of them. Soon the buildings and people all began to look the same. Odd how the two affected each other to such an extent. It seemed like every time Lyriella thought she'd finally reached the end, another turn would just pop up leading to at least a dozen more just like it. Ella felt like a rat in a maze only there was no way out. With every step she took, the more frustrated she became and for the first time in years, the youngest Malfoy was tempted to collapse where she now stood and break down in what was sure to be fat, obnoxious tears. It seemed like the only option she had left. For whatever amount of time Lyriella had already spent wandering aimlessly through the streets of Knockturn Alley, she'd exhausted every escape plan that came to mind by poking them full of holes.

Ask for help from a passing citizen? She'd probably be lead off and made into stew.

Find someone of authority and bawl her eyes out? _Pfft. _Figures of authority? In Knockturn Alley? _Please. _It's Knockturn Alley, there were none.

Use her abilities? That option had so many holes by the time Ella was through that it closely resembled Swiss cheese. If she had a Quick-Quotes Quill on her, she would probably have two encyclopedia sized books filled with reasons it was a terrible idea by now. The most important one being; her father. The only thing that could possibly make him angrier than he was already sure to be upon discovering her lasted escapade into Knockturn Alley, accidental or otherwise, would be if he discovered that she'd used her _unique _abilities outside the privacy of the Malfoy Manor. In all honesty, he'd likely kill her, or at least lock her in the dungeons for the rest of her life.

_So that's out_, Lyriella concluded grumpily. Unfortunately that was also her only option that didn't involve approaching one of the terrifying wizard folk and asking for assistance. For some reason, call it intuition or just plain common sense, Lyriella didn't think she'd come out of a situation like that unscathed. She liked living, thank you very much. Thus the youngest Malfoy was now at an impasse with herself and moments away for bawling her eyes out like the four year old she pretended not to be.

"Not a good idea, love. Cry'n in a place like this is just ask'n for trouble."

Startled, Lyriella whipped around, her eyes darting in every which way in search of the voice. It didn't take long considering he was _staring _right at her. Ella wasn't entirely sure if she should to categorize him as a boy or man because he was somewhere in-between the two, but he was definitely much older than her. Tendrils of dark, chestnut tinted hair hung in his face, hiding its more distinguishable features, and ending in choppy layers just bellow his collar bone. Ella didn't know why his sloppy mop hair irritated her, but it did. She had to physically restrain herself from grabbing clumps of it and tearing them out…or at least tying them back. Like everyone else in Knockturn Alley, his clothes were dark and with no shortage of fringe, holes, or any other signs of extended usage. Lyriella would have thought him rather plain looking if it wasn't for his strikingly beautiful eyes that lingered on the brink between blue and green; she was immediately jealous. Those mesmerizing pools of teal drew her in like a moth to a flame.

Lyriella didn't realize that she was staring until the corners of his lips arched up to form an arrogant little smirk. "See something you like, sweetness?"

Ella's mouth snapped shut. Oh great, she'd been gapping too. The scowl she sent him directly contradicted the bright red blush that had taken up residence on her cheek bones but she tried to ignore it. "No." The little girl bit back, not even entirely sure what he meant.

The boy's smirk only grew and then somehow transformed into a dazzling grin. The brilliance of it caught her off guard and Lyriella had to wonder if she was really still looking at the same face. It struck her as odd to be wearing such an expression in a place so gloomy, but strangely enough it didn't make him look the least bit out of place as she surely did with her _relatively_ clean dress and overall lack of grime.

But as lovely as the smile was on him, she couldn't help thinking that he mocking her. So with a huff and a toss of her bangs, she turned and stomped away. Or at least she had the intention to stomping away until a rather large, slightly tanned hand found it's way to her elbow, and tugged her back.

"Woah, 'old on there, beautiful. Didn't mean to insult you or nothing but you should know not to be wander'n these streets alone. They ain't safe for a girl like you."

Lyriella jerked away as if he'd burned her, and glared up at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He winked and wagged an arrogantly finger inches from her nose. "Now don't go taking that the wrong way, love. What I only meant was it ain't difficult to tell you're from a wealthy parentage with your pretty dress and what not. People 'round he are bound to notice that sort of thing, and not for good reasons neither."

Lyriella frowned suspiciously, wondering why he was telling her all this but decided after a minute of quiet contemplation that he was just a weirdo. "Ok, thanks for the heads up I guess." She finally said hesitantly. But when she turned to leave again she was once more pulled back, this time by her hand which he then lifted to his lips for a feather light kiss and bowed ever so slightly over it. Ella was too shocked to pull away. _Hasn't he ever heard of personal space?_

"Allow me to introduce myself, fare maiden. I am Scabior."

"And I am leaving," Lyriella replied, trying to reclaim possession of her appendage and then shifting uncomfortably when he wouldn't let go. What was this guy's problem?

"Now, love, don't be rude. It's only polite to give me a name now that I've offered you my own."

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

Scabior looked dumbfounded. "That ain't your name."

"No, but it is _a_ name which is what you asked for. So now, if you'll please release my person, we can both go in our separate directions and my father won't have to kill you." Lyriella replied sweetly.

Scabior stared at the girl with the strangest look on his face before cracking yet another breath taking smile and dropping her hand. "'Ow old are you anyway, kid? You don't talk like someone your size should."

"I turned four today, thank you very much. Not that it's any of your business. And by 'size' you better not be referring to my below average stature 'cause I might be short but I'm the perfect height to give your shin a nice little bruise to remember me by."

A startling roar escaped from his lips and it took Lyriella a moment to realize he was laughing which only made her glower. She hadn't been trying to be funny. Unfortunately her expression only made him laugh harder.

"Tell you what, sweetness. I like you, so I'm gunna be a perfect gentleman and show you the way out of this place. You're lost aren't you? "

Despite how much Lyriella wanted to lie for the sake of her pride, she wasn't dumb enough to turn down yet _another_ offer for help, so with not a little reluctance, she nodded.

Scabior grinned and began strutting in the direction she'd just came from. "Thought so. Wander'n 'round with tears in your pretty blue eyes was a pretty clear indicator."

Lyriella scowled at the back of his head. "I was _not_ crying!" she hissed after him.

He turned and began walking backward as she followed at a slower pace. "Whatever you say, love."

Deciding that he wasn't worth the headache, Ella bit back her retort. The faster she got back to Diagon Alley, the sooner she'd be rid of this imbecile. Talking was only slowing down their pace so she chose to ignore any further attempts he made at conversation.

Unfortunately, Lyriella soon discovered, _he never shut up_.

"'Ow about Lucille?"

Lyriella almost groaned. "For what?"

"Well you've neglected to offer me your real name, so the way I see it is it's my duty as a gentleman and as your escort to guess it before our brief interaction comes to an close."

Ella rolled her eyes. "That's stupid."

"Well, if you'd rather just tell me…" He said with a smirk.

"If I do will you promise to _stop talking_?"

Scabior hummed a reply that she didn't find the least bit reassuring.

"Amelia."

"Liar."

"How do you know?" Lyriella asked, jabbing him in the arm. Just because she wasn't telling the truth didn't mean she liked being called out for it. Besides, something told her revealing her identy would be extremely stupid.

"You don't smell like an Amelia."

_Okk. Time to go, _Ella thought.

"Well, it's been great Scabior but I think we better part ways here." she said, giving his hand a quick pat before scurrying ahead of his slender form and surprised expression.

She didn't have to look back to know he was following her, but she did anyway which served as the proper motivation to start running. After that little comment, Lyriella was sufficiently creeped out and decided she _never again _wanted to be within a four miles radius of that man…boy…whatever he was. But of course because he matched three of her strides with one of his, Scabior caught up in no time.

"Alright, maybe that came out wrong."

"You think?" she asked, refusing to slow down her pace though it did little to add any distance between the pair.

"'Ow about Hannah?"

She veered off to the left and took the turn in the hope that he wouldn't notice her sudden disappearance. No such luck.

"Anabell?"

"Can't you take a hint and go away?" Ella snapped.

Scabior smiled. "Well I could but then who'd tell you that the exit's that way?" he asked jutting a thumb over his shoulder.

Lyriella came to a screeching halt and sent him a withering glare. "And I don't suppose you could have mentioned that earlier, huh?"

If looks could kill Scabior would be ten kinds of dead, a fact he seemed to be blissfully unaware of.

"Well it's rude to interrupt a lady while she's ranting," he shrugged.

Lyriella crossed her arms and let forth something akin to a growl.

"You're incorrigible!" she shrieked.

"And you're adorable."

The ebony haired girl scowled, she seemed to be doing awful lot of that around Scabior. He reached out a hand to pat her head sympathetically.

"Sorry, love. We all 'ave our burdens to bare. Mine being a complete lack of self control and a weakness for all things sweet; and you, my pretty, are too cute to be taken seriously."

Ella aimed a kick at his shin which he neatly dodged. "Oh, and you have the temperament of a wild cat. I pity the boy who catches your eye. I send my regards to whomever that poor bloke may be; he has his work cut out for him."

Lyriella took a deep breath which did very little to calm her nerves. She really needed to get away from this git, he was a walking headache. But she also needed to get to the exit, which meant she had play nice.

"Ok, I'm sorry for running away but could you please refrain from making comments regarding how I smell? It kinda weirds me out."

"Sure thing, sweetness," he grinned. "But just so there's no confusion, you smell very nice. Sort'a like a fusion between berries and flowers. 'S quite pleasant."

Lyriella wished she had a stick 'cause she'd beat him with it. _I think I know how Grandmother Viperia got that bulging vein now_. Lyriella thought disgruntled as she followed Scabior back to the main road.

The strange duo walked in relative silence for a bit before Scabior decided he preferred the sound of his own voice. Lyriella got the impression that he was someone who never left the air empty for too long.

"Eliza?"

Lyriella offered no indication that she'd heard him. Maybe if she ignored him he'd get the idea.

"Isabella?"

Oh, this was never going to end was it?

Just as he was opening his mouth to suggest another, Lyriella interrupted him with a question of her own.

"What kind of name is Scabior, anyway?" She asked.

"Not sure I follow, beautiful," he replied, pushing a hand through his knotting hair. He really had to do something about that or she would.

"Well, is it your first name or your last?"

Ella could have sworn she'd seen him flinch, but it happened so fast, she blamed her imagination.

"That's a good question."

"And that's not a real answer."

"Well it's the one your getting, lovely. Deal with it."

Ella glared but dropped the subject.

Like before the shops, patrons, and costumers all began to look the same, and Lyriella felt reluctantly grateful for her guide, no matter how _irritating _he could be. She seriously doubted she'd have ever found her way back on her own, thus the reason she now decided to toss Scabior a metaphorical bone.

"It's Lyriella. But Ella for short."

If he was surprised, he didn't show it. "That was my next guess."

"Sure it was." Lyriella drawled. "I'm pretty sure my uncle just made it up, so chances of you guessing correctly were slim to none."

"Oh ye of little faith."

"In you? Yeah."

"You know, you really shouldn't insult people who are bigger than you."

Ella scoffed. "Then I wouldn't get to insult anyone."

"I think you've 'ad an epiphany."

"Oh, shut up."

**REVIEWS MAKE ME UPDATE FASTER, SO PLEASE DO!**


	8. Distractions

**Author's Note: Holy crap, I can NOT believe how long this stupid chapter took to write. It has been the bane of my existence for the past three months.. But seriously, sorry it took so long guys.**

**ANYWAY! This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful, the beautiful, the MARVLOUES watercave who not only designed my lovely new cover but also has taken it upon herself to translate GOE into German. Love you, girl! The link to her profile and the German translation are both on my profile page so if you're so inclined, check 'em out!**

**Yuppers, so that's about it. The next chapter is already half written and I swear on the life of my dead fish, Bubbles, it will be posted MUCH MUCH sooner than this was.**

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN THE HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE. (JK ROWLING DOES) I do however own my oc's and everything else that doesn't sound familiar.**

Scabior Leigh Burkes hated his name. It was an unpleasant reminder of who his father was and what his mother was not. That being, on both accounts; pureblood. In his father's case, Gustus Scabior Burkes, more commonly known as GS. Burke since that's what it said at the bottom of all his articles, was a wealthy aristocrat employed by the Ministry whom earned his pay by kissing the darkest part of Cornilius Fudge's saggy white ass and publishing Ministry crafted lies into the Daily Prophet. Though officially he was the _glorified _filter of information into the general public which basically just meant was he was the main source of propaganda within the wizarding community. As far as the Daily Prophet was involved, what GS. Burke said, went. His word was law.

When he was twenty-eight, Gustus seduced a nineteen year old barmaid named Lucinda Ann Josephs with the promise that he'd leave his frigid pureblood wife to instead begin a family with her. She believed him.

But lo and behold, a short while after Lucinda took to spreading her legs on a daily basis, the young witch discovered that she was carrying the child of a married man. It took all of ten minutes for Gustus to pack up and start running right back to his mansion in Southminster as if he hadn't been dipping his dick in a mudblood tavern girl for the past three months.

Six of those later, a fatherless, half-blood Scabior was born to the world, named after a man who didn't know or care to know of his existence. Scabior's mother, Lucinda, heartbrokenly tried to contact Gustus to inform him of his new son, but all of the witch's attempts to reclaim the love of her life went blatantly ignored.

And so for fifteen years Scabior listened to his mother sob into the night and rant throughout the day that it was _his_ fault her Gustus had left. That if he had never been born they would be together now and she would live in a beautiful house and eat delicious food and never again have to return home with bruises from men who liked to hit.

But despite it all, every evening Scabior would bring a damp cloth to his mother's bedchamber and wash away her tears, and in the morning he'd tidy up the dishes or odd pieces of furniture Lucinda had thrown either at the wall or his head the previous day.

Money was always tight around the house so during his time at Hogwarts, Scabior would snatch a couple coins here and there and send it off to his mother, hoping just once to receive some sort of acknowledgement in return. But his owls always remained unanswered and soon Scabior just sent the pouch without any sort of correspondence attached. If his mother ever noticed a difference, she never said so.

When Scabior was fourteen, he found a small, rectangular piece of parchment and a extremely ordinary looking bronze key hidden under the mattress of Lucinda's bed. It read:

_To the (illegitimate) son of Gustus Scabior Burkes,_

_We regret to inform you that due to the recent Dragon Pox outbreak, your Father, Gustus Burkes has now passed away. B__ecause of his otherwise lack of heirs, all unfrozen finances have been transferred to a vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank in your name. Enclosed is the necessary key to access 'said' vault. _

_Hoping you are well, _

_Margery Cynthia Landcaster - Head of Wizarding Finances _

That letter was dated to nearly three weeks before and Scabior very quickly discovered, with a quick trip to Gringotts, that because he wasn't yet seventeen, his mother was there for qualified to access his vault and everything within it. Lucinda had been making large withdrawals almost every week beginning in June.

What had once been quite a large sum of inheritance had now been squandered to a mere handful of gallons. Scabior had certainly never felt any sort of affection towards his father, and quite honestly wanted very little to do with anything once in his possession; but even half of what his mother had greeded away could have acquired them a modest home so unlike the run down shack they currently resided in. They could have started over and finally become a proper family. She could have stopped working for a while. At least long enough to get some rest and let her body heal.

Leaving the bank with the remaining coins in hand, Scabior found himself to be, for the first time he could remember, _angry_ with his mother. She had ruined everything.

That night when Scabior approached the subject, Lucinda went crazy.

"This is your fault. All your fault, you ungrateful brat! That money was mine! Gustus was mine! Just like that woman, you stole him from me and now you are trying to stealing everything he should have given me!" Angry tears spilled from her eyes as she whirled around their home in a furious blur. Scabior had to duck to narrowly escape a potted plant aimed at his head.

"Mum, calm down, you're going to 'urt yourself!" Scabior called, trying to reach for her cocked arm.

"Get away from me! Don't touch me!" she screeched.

"Stop, Mum. Just bloody stop!"

The deranged witch began beating her tiny brown hands against anything she could reach, including Scabior. He tried to still her movements unsuccessfully, and found himself wishing he's just remained silent.

"NO! Let go! Let go! Let go!" She chanted, with each word bringing the next fist to his chest. "I wish you were never born! I want you gone form my life! I hate you. I HATE YOU!"

It hurt. So much more than Scabior would ever admit to hear her stay those words. Each was like a crushing blow. He felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs. He tried to breath but it was like inhaling water.

So Scabior let go. And immediately regretted it.

Lucinda had lost her balance and took a backwards tumble down the opposing woodwork stairs. Scabior could remember the look of pure horror on her twisted face as she fell. It had haunted his dreams for months afterwards.

She didn't die from the fall of course. Magic worked wonders when it came to healing bones. But Scabior never did go back home after that night. He left, just like she wanted. He didn't really care that he had no where to go. It didn't matter, really. Nothing did.

But as if fate had felt the need to intervene once more in his unfortunate existence, the young wizard was tossed a rope in the darkness by his long lost Uncle Borgin. Well, not exactly 'lost' but disinherited for sure. He was the half brother of Scabior's late father. The Burke's had all but removed him from their memories after he'd been discovered to be a squib. Now the wrinkled ol' man owned a dingy shop at the far side of Knockturn Alley selling all sorts of dark objects. The only reason the place has yet to be shut down was because the Ministry was dumb enough to send a notice weeks before they would even hold an evaluation of his store and merchandise. Just enough time for good o'l Borgin to sell off what needed to be gone at half price.

To this day, Scabior was still unsure as to how Borgin had found him in the first place, but find him he did because not a day after the young wizard had left home, there Borgin was offering him a place to stay on the condition he minded the store every so often.

Working at _Borgin and Burke's _was surprisingly fulfilling; or rather the objects the shop had to offer were surprisingly fulfilling because they indeed fulfilled Scabior needs. Half the _shite _Borgin sold was exactly that, but the other half, usually the instruments Borgin didn't have a single clue about proved to be quite useful to the young wizard. One of which was a seven foot cabinet, made of dark wood that'd sat in the back of the store for years doing nothing but gathering dust. Scabior thought it was just some sort of vintage heirloom from one killed off family or another until he'd found it's twin in an abandoned room at Hogwarts.

The musty o'l thing was a vanishing cabinet and it made escaping Hogwarts every once and a while exceedingly easy. It had taken Scabior months to find the right incantation to active the bloody thing, but the Hogwart's library had it's uses beyond supplying privacy for a quick fuck behind the book shelves. Surprisingly enough.

And thus, while his fellow Slytherns were frolicking through the streets of Hogsmeade, Scabior spent some time outside the enchantments of Hogwart's School of Witch Craft and Wizardry.

Now completeing his fifth year at Hogwarts, the young wizard had become an expert at timing his little adventures so he never popped out at the shop when Borgin was close enough to become suspicious of scuffling noises.

"You buy'n anyth'n or not, boy?"

Scabior shook his head to clear it of it's thoughts and returned his attention to Jeremy Hook, a dark wizard whom spent half his time selling illegal, overpriced products to those whom knew where to find him and the other tiptoeing around law enforcement. He used to be called Jeremy Bolkin but after an unfortunate run in with some Aurors and a well aimed hex, he'd changed it to suit the new silvery appendage sitting right where his left hand used to.

"'Old on a bloody minute, would ya? I ain't decided yet." Scabior replied, promptly ignoring the scowl sent his way. The small rickety vendor was covered top to bottom with small jars and bottles filled with who knows what. It was best not to question that sort of thing in Knockturn Alley. Just get what you need and go.

"Oi," Scabior finally said, snapping his fingers in Hook's general direction, "give me a couple dragon scales and that there Tears of Poppy. I feel like gett'n a bit pissed tonight."

Hook rolled his eyes and began bagging Scabior's purchases. "Ya' know, a buddy of mine once tried to brew his on liquor from the same thing."

"Yeah?" Scabior replied monotonously poking at a strange blue critter incased in some sort of goo cube.

"He's paralyzed from the lips down now. 'parently we ain't supposed to drink Tear of Poppy. Even ter just let loose a bit," he raised an eye brow that clearly stated he knew exactly was Scabior was up to.

Scabior raised a brow of his own. "Everyone's got their lil' quirks I 'suppose." he replied nonchalantly, handing over his pay.

"_Hmph. _What'evr. Good luck, boy."

Scabior rolled his eyes and began strolling down the Alley at a leisurely pace just as he'd been doing for roughly an hour now. He figured he had about another two before anyone began questioning his absence. It never ceased to amaze him how easily he got away with his weekend expeditions. Wasn't ol' Dumbledore supposed to be the greatest wizard of the century, or something? One would think he'd be a bit more perceptive if that was the case instead of letting teenage Slytherns sneak out from beneath his abnormally large and crooked nose.

With a sigh, Scabior rested his hands behind his head, his small bag having already been tucked away into his robes. As ugly and stifling the things where, they were sort of a necessity in Knockturn Alley. You gotta look at mangy as the rest of 'em if you want to make it out alive.

Scabior continued on his way a short while more before he noticed an absurdity in the crowd. A small ebony haired girl standing no more than maybe to his navel was currently weaving through the crowd with quick scampered steps. She was obviously unescorted and filthy rich if her pasty green dress was any indication.

_What a little idiot. _Scabior thought with mild annoyance. The stupid thing was going to get herself killed. And where the bloody hell were her parents?

The chit looked to be about three or four years of age but taking into account her short legs and the pudgy complexion, Scabior was leaning more towards the former. She was a pretty little thing Scabior supposed, which wouldn't work well in her favor on these streets.

Scabior was prepared to just continue on his way and leave the kid to her fate, but then he spotted Maurice.

Maurice and his lil' group of associates were what Scabior considered to be the dogs of the Ministry. They did all the dirty work that Auror's either wouldn't or weren't authorized to carry out. Scabior didn't know the specifics because their whole department were kept on the down-low at the Ministry, but if nothing else Sytherins were resourceful. Scabior didn't even know where Rufus Levei got half his information but the boy was like a bloody encyclopedia when it came to people. His abnormally large brains were half the reason Scabior befriended him back in third year.

Anyway, the sick ol' pooch was trailing the midget at a close distance, a fact of course she was completely oblivious to. It was obvious that she was his prey. And something about that just didn't sit right with Scabior so before he knew it, his legs were moving.

_Ahh, bloody hell. _Scabior growled as shifted his course to intersect with the girl's. Since when was he the knight in shining armor type?

Scabior maneuvered through the crowd with relative ease, stopping only once to glare at a foul smelling witch when she quite obviously tried to pass off her attempt to steal his coin pouch as a moment of clumsiness. Scabior considered hexing the old prune, but she'd scurried off like a cockroach on the first day of spring before he had the chance to pull out his wand. Something in his expression must have conveyed his inner dialogue.

The young wizard worked to readjust his facial expression as to not scare off the girl and pivoted his way directly into her path, taking note of the watery quality to her otherwise pretty blue eyes.

"Not a good idea, love. Cry'n in a place like this is just ask'n for trouble."

The girl whipped around, strands of inky black flying chaotically through the air before falling to lie in fumbled docile waves past her shoulders. Unconsciously, she moved a hand to flatten the waves back into place, but it didn't matter. The light breeze had already caught her scent and carried it's tantalizing fragrance to embed itself in his nostrils. It was quite possibly the sweetest thing he'd ever before encountered. A fusion of fruit, flowers, and something equally as pleasant that he couldn't fit a name to. Regardless, it sat on his tongue, assaulting his senses with it's reluctance to fade.

Scabior fought to free himself the foggy sensation that it induced in his mind and scanned the girl's face. Fortunately, she didn't seem to have noticed his moment of hesitation as she was too busy conducting an evaluation of his features with an adorable slightly gapped mouthed.

Scabior couldn't help the smirk that played at his lips, though in all honesty he didn't really try. Instead he opting to analyze her just as closely as she did him.

The girl was just as tiny as he initially thought upon seeing her, with so much hair he wondered if it's weight ever became a burden. That abundance of hair was so dark that it served only to make her creamy pale complexion appear even more so, the same applying to her eyes which were the loveliest shade of blue Scabior had ever before encountered. His gaze traveled downwards to her pale green dress. The material alone was likely worth more than everything within his own wardrobe combined, though that truly wasn't saying much.

She _was _a noble born then. That much was obvious. Though it made sense considering the wizard folk that visited these parts weren't usually of lowclass blood.

But her lineage didn't explain why she was now alone. Weren't purebloods supposed to be frantically protective of their young'ns? Had to do with guarding the legacy or some shite?

With absolutely no reluctance, Scabior brought his teal stain orbs back to the small girl's face, which still held an expression of complete and utter surprise. The young wizard suddenly had the urge to play with her a bit.

"See something you like, sweetness?"

Unlike her reply, the girl's blush was immediate. "N-no," she snapped.

Scabior grinned. She just looked so damn comical all red faced and scowling. Almost like an angry kitten. He hadn't meant to sound so smug, which doubtlessly only served to irritate her further, but she seemed the type to wear her heart on her cheeks. They blazed beautifully even now, though Scabior guessed more from anger than her initial embarrassment.

He was proven correct when the little lady threw him a parting glare with no small amount of distaste, and turned to march away. It was obvious that she had mistaken his sincere smile for one of mocking intent.

Feeling a surge of panic he had no way of explaining, Scabior curled his fingers around her tiny bicep and pulled her back.

"Woah, 'old on there, beautiful. Didn't mean to insult you or nothing but you should know not to be wander'n these streets alone. They ain't safe for a girl like you."

And there is was. The reason he was over here chatting it up with a toddler rather then using his extremely temporary time to sneak back into Hogwarts. Or at least it had been, but now Scabior wasn't too sure. But he had absolutely no intention of analyzing his rapidly changing feeling until she was tucked away somewhere safe and he had whiskey. Lots of it.

The girl pulled away with a huff and scowled up at him. Or at least what she thought was a scowl. The term ferocious bunny came to mind and Scabior had to work to distract himself so he wouldn't burst out laughing. He didn't think she would appreciate his humor.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Oh what a poor, naive, little thing she was.

"Now don't go taking that the wrong way, love. What I only meant was it ain't difficult to tell you're from a wealthy parentage with your pretty dress and what not. People 'round he are bound to notice that sort of thing, and not for good reasons neither," he hummed, wagging a finger back and forth.

Eyes the color of sea glass narrowed up at him with no small amount of suspicion. But after a moment which felt like several, the distrust vanished to reveal something closer to acceptable. Albiet reluctant acceptance, but Scabior would take what he could get.

"Ok, thanks for the heads up I guess," she finally mumbled, shifting her weight as if to retreat once more.

Once again that unfamiliar surge of panic and unease doused his veins in a burning liquid; acting on instinct Scabior trapped her petite lily colored hand with in his own and brought it to his mouth. Her addictively innocent fragrance only became that much more powerful with the close proximity of her skin. He couldn't resist skimming it's milky surface with delicate lips, his eyes never once leaving hers.

What was wrong with him? This girl was barely out of her nappies and here he was acting like a forty-something year old man with a fetish for 'em young. Scabior fought the nausea that burned it's way up his throat at the thought of such a man touching this girl. But couldn't he be categorized as such a man? It was considered well beyond socially unacceptable for someone like him to be treating someone her age so intimately. Scabior was disgusted with himself, but he also couldn't make himself let her go of her hand. The thought of it made his gut heave and once again he was fighting back bile. _What was wrong with him?_

Suddenly Maurice came to mind. What did that man even want? Was he still there? Watching. Waiting for Scabior to take his leave to pounce on this naive little lamb like the demented hound he was. It wasn't bile Scabior was swallowing now. It was rage. Magical age restrictions be damned. If the tosser made one wrong move Scabior would try out the nifty slicing hex he'd been practicing recently.

The young wizard took a quick survey of the dwindling crowd, unsuccessfully locating Maurice. But just because Scabior couldn't see him, didn't mean he wasn't there biding his time in the shadows. Waiting to snatch the girl up and make a clean get away. And that's exactly what would happen if she was left alone, Scabior realized. It was also exactly what he wouldn't allow to happen. Scabior decided right then to stick to this midget like soggy Licorice Snaps until she either stepped out of Knockturn Alley, or was reunited with her parents.

She was going to love this.

It wasn't until the nameless girl began shifting her weight that Scabior noticed that he had yet to relinquish possession of her right hand. Something he felt oddly reluctant to do. It would seem introductions were in order.

"Allow me to introduce myself, fare maiden. I am Scabior," he said, giving her a smile that tended to turn the opposite sex into a sopping puddle of mush.

She didn't even blink. "And I am leaving." Scabior struggled to keep his face free from emotion. _Oh, what a pleasant surprise,_ the young wizard internally grumbled. _She's a smart ass. _But he wouldn't let her evade him, he wanted a name.

Scabior struggled to keep his smile intact but he thought maybe his left eye was twitching. "Now, love, don't be rude. It's only polite to give me a name now that I've offered you my own," he persuaded.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

"That ain't your name," Scabior accused after a moment of surprise. He was then tempted to take a swat at his forehead. _Of course it ain't her name, you bloody dunderhead. _There were many things Scabior liked to consider himself. A master of all things obvious wasn't one of them.

"No, but it is _a_ name which is what you asked for. So now, if you'll please release my person, we can both go in our separate directions and my father won't have to kill you." she replied in a voice practically caramelizing syrup in it's false sweetness.

There that spark was again. This girl had spunk, he'd give her that much, and if Scabior was being honest with himself, he didn't completely hate it. In fact, her sharp tongue was a welcome relief compared to the conversation Hogwarts had to offer. The girls there were either too dim witted or stupid with infatuation to spit out even one intelligent word, never mind participating in the sparing of them. Not that Scabior minded. He'd rather fuck than talk any day. But for obvious reasons that wasn't a option here, meaning he would have to switch tactics.

"'Ow old are you anyway, kid?" he asked, dropping her hand. "You don't talk like someone your size should."

"I turned four today, thank you very much. Not that it's any of your business. And by 'size' you better not be referring to my below average stature 'cause I might be short but I'm the perfect height to give your shin a nice little bruise to remember me by."

Without hesitation, Scabior barked out a deep throaty laugher. It took several attempts for him to successfully contain himself managing only after the third try. He decided he could seriously get used to have her around, if only for the comic relief she offered. Just the memory of the glorified little kitten spitting up at him like she actually stood as a threat was sure to cause spurges of unexpected laughter for the unforeseeable future.

It also came to Scabior's attention that the little midget had a bit of a sensitive spot for her vertically-challenged self. He filed that information away for future use.

"Tell you what, sweetness. I like you, so I'm gunna be a perfect gentleman and show you the way out of this place. You're lost aren't you?"

It was very conclusive from her expression that she was battling herself over whether to lie or not. It took her a while but eventually she reluctantly nodded. Not that it really mattered how she answered, the girl wasn't leaving his sight until he was good and ready.

At her affirmation, Scabior grinned and began walking at a slow pace in the direction of the exit. The buildings in Knockturn Alley tended to shift, whether for their own amusement or because they were every bit as crazy as the wizard folk who walked their streets, Scabior was unsure, but they were easy enough to navigate once you learned how.

"Thought so. Wander'n 'round with tears in your pretty blue eyes was a pretty clear indicator." Scabior didn't have to look back to know her tiny heart-shaped face was once again flushed with anger but more so, embarrassment.

"I was _not_ crying!" she yelled after him.

The young wizard turned to smirk at her knowingly. "Whatever you say, love."

The paired walked along for a short while, Scabior slightly ahead though he was careful to cast quick glances over his shoulder every so often to make she was keeping up. It wasn't long until he spotted Maurice again. The bony old git was trailing behind, close enough prevent losing sight of the girl but also far enough to avoid detection. At least that's what he must have thought considering he had yet to notice the seething looks of unadulterated rage Scabior was periodically throwing in his direction.

The girl didn't take notice to either their silent follower or Scabior mildly suspicious behavior. Despite how intelligent the midget was when it came to sparring words, she was fortunately, at least in this situation, utterly oblivious to her surroundings. Scabior was thankful for this. He didn't need her panicking and causing a scene. Using the cunning he was so fond of, Scabior came up with a quick plan to keep the girl's attention distracted.

"'Ow about Lucille?"

"For what?" she said with exasperation.

"Well you've neglected to offer me your real name, so the way I see it is it's my duty as a gentleman and as your escort to guess it before our brief interaction comes to an close."

Scabior glanced over just in time to see her pretty blue eyes roll. "That's stupid."

The midget just couldn't make this easy, could she?

"Well, if you'd rather just tell me…"

"If I do will you promise to _stop talking_?"

Scabior gave her a suspicious look. Had he spoken too soon or was this just another of her games? Not feeling to confident in the former, the young wizard opted to hum what could have been interpreted as an agreement.

"Amelia."

'_Liar.' _He knew it the moment the name slipped from her lips. Not that he could voice this accusation out loud, because she'd demand his reasoning, and that he couldn't give because Amelia was a perfectly good name. It was completely within the realm of possibility that her name could be Amelia. But it wasn't. She smelled too sweet, far to intoxicating to be called something so terribly mundane. But he couldn't tell her this. It would likely send her running, probably right in the direction of danger considering they were surrounded by it.

At the tender age of four, she definitely wouldn't understand the fundamentalism of his odd talent. His sense of smell was refined to the extent that he could practically sniff out a lie. At times Scabior foolishly wondered if he wasn't part Kneazle.

"How do you know?" the girl grouched, swatting at his arm with her fist.

Scabior was temporarily distracted from her question by the pleasant warmth that fluttered over his arm where she'd touched him through the fabric of his shirt. He tried not to overanalyze his reaction to her touch, instead mentally kicking himself into concentrating on her question. Only it wasn't one he'd expected nor wanted to hear.

He hadn't spoken out loud, had he? _Well bloody hell. _Scabior resisted the urge to find the nearest brick way and start relieving some stupidity on it with his forehead.

"You don't smell like an Amelia," he answered reluctantly, careful to avoid eye contact.

As "not Amelia" scampered off, likely to hide from the creepy teenage Slythern who had just word vomited _exactly_ what he'd just promised himself he wouldn't, Scabior took the heel of his palm to his forehead. But only because it was significantly closer than a brick wall.

For one unsettling, slightly paranoid moment, Scabior wondered if someone hadn't placed a loose-lip jinx on him when he wasn't looking. He didn't consider the possibility for long because it took all of three seconds for him to remember why letting the midget run off on her own was a very bad idea.

"Damn it," he growled, darting after her tiny bobbing figure. It was almost pathetic how quickly he caught up. Short legs really must be an inconvenience after all.

"Alright, so maybe that came out wrong."

"You think?"

"'Ow about Hannah?" He asked, trying to lighten the mood. He was unsuccessfully apparently because immediately she veered off course likely in the hope that he'd give up the chase. Silly girl didn't know that the chase was his favorite part.

"Anabell?" He asked when he'd caught up again. Now he was just calling out names as a means of distraction. His mind was else where working at a frantic speed, trying to concoct ways to make her follow him again.

"Can't you take a hint and go away?" she hissed, refusing to slow down her pace.

_Gotcha. _

"Well I could but then who'd tell you that the exit's that way?" Scabior replied innocently pointing nonchalantly over his shoulder.

It worked. She stumbled to a stop, her lost momentum nearly landing her flat on her face in the process. "And I don't suppose you could have mentioned that earlier, huh?"

Scabior grinned. Not only because he had her backed into a corner, but also because she was trying to scowl again.

"Well it's rude to interrupt a lady while she's ranting," he shrugged.

The girl crossed her arms and roared like an enraged kitten. Scabior wasn't impressed.

"You're incorrigible!"

"And you're adorable," he replied, reaching out to pat her head.

It might have been a trick of light bit Scabior he could have sworn her eye twitched. If he wanted her to cooperate he really should stop poking fun at her but she was just too easy to tease.

"Sorry, love. We all 'ave our burdens to bare. Mine being a complete lack of self control and a weakness for all things sweet; and you, my pretty, are too cute to be taken seriously."

The little minx then tried her very hardest to leave a dent in his shin bone, luckily he stepped out of her path just in time. He couldn't help it. He was laughing now.

"Oh, and you have the temperament of a wild cat. I pity the boy who catches your eye. I send my regards to whomever that poor bloke may be; he has his work cut out for him."

Scabior had been expected another out burst, likely including another attempt at his life and maybe some death threats, but once again the midget surprised him by taking a long measured breath and calmly unclenching the fists he was sure she'd rather beat him with.

"Ok, I'm sorry for running away but could you please refrain from making comments regarding how I smell? It kinda weirds me out."

The young wizard grinned.

_Success. Scabior one. Midget zero. _

"Sure thing, sweetness," he grinned, revealing nothing of his inner gloating self. "But just so there's no confusion, you smell very nice. Sort'a like a fusion between berries and flowers. 'S quite pleasant."

Oh what a tragic understatement that was. Every time she shifted to close or the breeze decided he required further temptation, Scabior had to physically restrain himself from grabbing her fragile shoulders and pulling her close so he could drown himself in her exquisite scent. Once again Scabior pondered how anyone could smell so sweet. Or rather how ill fortuned he was to find it in a girl so young because now he couldn't do anything to relieve the aching hunger she caused in him.

Had she been older he would have embedded himself in her in every conceivable meaning of the word and… Scabior stopped that train of thought before he was obligated to _Obliviate _himself due to his own moral codes.

He had to get her out of here so he could get away from her. Scabior wondered how it was possible to feel like a dirty old man when he was only just turned fifteen. But could he be blamed? If he was just to close his eyes and let her scent envelope him, Scabior could very easily imagine himself falling in love with that smell.

Scabior's eyes snapped open. He hadn't meant to act on that thought. Hurriedly he turned his eyes back to the nameless girl and felt mildly irritated. She was lovely. Even now with the soft pudge at her cheeks and the painfully fragile appearance all young'ns possessed, but when she grew she was sure to be a beauty indeed. Even with crossed arms and a pout, she was lovely. He tried not to blame her for being to young to ravish. But every time he looked away all he could imagine was_

_Distraction_. He needed a distraction.

"Eliza?"

The girl ignored him. A bad move on her part because it was for her own benefit that he became distracted.

"Isabella?" he asked, mentally begging her to answer.

Just as he was about to add another to the growing pile of not-her-names, she spoke.

"What kind of name is Scabior, anyway?"

Well that certainly got him mind out of the gutter. The question was like a bucket of cold water.

"Not sure I follow, beautiful," he replied indecisively, hoping that she'd drop the subject.

"Well, is it your first name or your last?"

Scabior clenched his jaw. This was definitely not something he wanted to talk about. One stroll down memory lane was plenty.

"That's a good question."

He could feel her glaring. "And that's not a real answer," she complained.

Scabior felt his patience begin to deteriorate. "Well it's the one your getting, lovely. Deal with it," he snapped.

The girl didn't reply and Scabior almost instantly felt regret. He hadn't meant to upset her. It wasn't until the pair had nearly reached the entrance point that she finally spoke again.

"It's Lyriella. But Ella for short."

Scabior smiled, feeling a strange warmth in his chest. _Ella._

"That was my next guess."

Lyriella cast him a disbelieving look. "Sure it was. I'm pretty sure my uncle made it up, so chances of you guessing correctly were slim to none."

"Oh ye of little faith."

"In you? Yeah."

"You know, you really shouldn't insult people who are bigger than you," he said, secretly enjoying their banter.

The midget scoffed. "Then I wouldn't get to insult anyone."

"I think you've 'ad an epiphany."

She swatted his arm. "Oh, do shut up."

Scabior smirked down at her irritated face but very quickly became engrossed by her gravity defying hair. The ebony strands bounced cheerfully at her shoulders and down her back. Scabior suddenly had the illogical urge to stroke it, wondering if it was a soft as it looked. He then very quickly tried to smother that urge…Unsuccessfully.

"Why are you petting me?" Lyriella asked, slapping at his hand where it was entangled in her waves. "I'm not a dog you know."

Scabior ignored her and continued twirling her hair around his fingers.

"Would you knock it off, people are staring you dimwit."

Scabior glanced around, and resisting the urge to groan because people were indeed staring. Reluctantly he disentangled himself from her and shrugged as if he hadn't just be molesting her in some way. "I saw a spider."

A look of pure, immaculate terror appeared on her face. "What?" she squeaked, rubbing vigorously at her scalp.

_Probably not the best thing to say to a girl, ya bloody idiot. _Scabior quickly grabbed Ella's wrists before she could mush up her hair any further.

"Calm down, lovely. I was only play'n with you.

Lyriella's eyes turned murderous and she began kicking at his legs with abandon. "You stupid, mean, big-headed git!"

Scabior laughed, as he held her away from him by her wrists, enjoying the occasional brush of skin when her sleeve slipped out of place.

Neither noticed the quickly advancing man.

"Let go of the her, boy," came a rumble from behind.

Scabior's eyes snapped up, all signs of humor disappearing instantaneously as his gaze settling on none other than Maurice.

_Well shite. _

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